


The Way of the Voice

by s_ilverblood



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Forbidden Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 135,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_ilverblood/pseuds/s_ilverblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fina is the niece of Ulfric Stormcloak, a man who raised her like a daughter after her father died. When she and her Uncle are captured by the Imperials, they believe it is the end of the war, but when a dragon interrupts their execution, Ulfric believes he has found a new tool to assist him in the war - his niece the Dragonborn. Fina accepts her destiny whole-heartedly, but when she visits the Greybeards to begin her training she finds herself inexplicably drawn to their newest member, Arik. With his vows of silence and celibacy standing between the two, they find both of their lives taking a turn they never could have foreseen. (Rated somewhere between M and E.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Arik sat by the orphanage window, watching as the rain pelted against it, making trails and forking together in miniature rivers down the glass. The rain calmed him, even though he knew he should be nervous, considering what the day held for him.

Beside him on the bed sat his cloak and suitcase, packed with his only belongings - a spare tunic, a little wooden horse that was missing an ear, and two books; one entitled  _A Dream of Sovngarde_  that he'd found, half water-logged in the grass beside The Bannered Mare, and the second entitled  _The Way of the Voice_.

The second book was all that he had left of his father, whom he'd been told had once been employed by the Greybeards to climb the 7,000 steps to High Hrothgar twice a month and deliver supplies. Arik's mother had died while giving him life, and no more than a year later, his father had been killed by a Frost Troll on his way up the steps. Arik had been in the orphanage ever since.

"Arik! Arik, they're here!" A girl of no more than 11 slid into the room in a jumble of blonde curls, dirty slippers, and a dress two sizes too big. She hurried towards him, stopping at the edge of the bed. Her face was flushed and her blue eyes glittered with excitement.

"Hi Syra." Arik patted her on the head and stood up, taking his suitcase and cloak from the bed.

"Are you scared?" She asked him, taking hold of his hand and looking up at him earnestly.

Arik couldn't help but smile at her. "Only a little." He winked.

"Ljorn says that its a big horror to be taught by the Greybeards." She said anxiously as they walked towards the door.

"Not horror, Syra! He said honour." Arik chuckled. "It's an honour."

"Oh. Right." She giggled back, but fell silent when they entered the other room. A tall Nord man with a knotted blonde beard stood with Gretna, the woman who ran the orphanage. Her tight lipped expression was ever the same as it has always been.

"Arik, this is Klimmek. He's been sent by the Greybeards to collect you." Gretna explained. She passed him a small bundle. "There's some lunch in there for your journey."

He nodded his thanks and turned his attention to Klimmek.

"Hello." The man said, offering his hand to Arik, who had to shake free from Syra in order to shake it. "Are you ready?"

Arik swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yes, sir."

Klimmek smiled. "Good, my cart is just outside." He pushed open the door.

Once outside, Klimmek took his suitcase and lunch bundle and stowed them in the back of the cart.

Syra launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. More of the children from the orphanage gathered as well, many of them coming forward saying their goodbyes and giving Arik a hug.

Once the children had dispersed, Syra was all that remained. He wasn't sure why, but Syra and he had always had a far greater connection than any of the other children.

"Happy Birthday, Arik." She mumbled into his shirt.

"Thanks, Syra. I'll miss you."

"You too." She looked up at him, and he saw she was crying. He wiped the tears from her face and leaned down to kiss her head.

"I'll write you." He promised, disentangling himself and pulling on his cloak. Without looking back, he climbed onto the front bench of the cart beside Klimmek.

"Its your birthday, is it?" Klimmek asked, flicking the reins to get his old horse to start moving. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen, sir."

The man nodded thoughtfully, and when he spoke, the words were slow and Arik felt a chill creep up his spine. "It almost seems like a waste."

Unsure what the words meant, Arik remained silent.

 


	2. 7,000 Steps

_Three years later..._

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina didn't think she could climb another step. She stopped dead in her tracks, looking up the snowy mountainside before her. All she could see was swirling snow, sparse trees splintered and permanently bent from the relentless winds, and more steps. Broken and cracked, sticking from the ground in jagged rows as if this mountain was a monster and the steps were its crooked teeth.

Exhausted, Fina dropped to her knees, wishing vaguely the teeth would part and that the mountain would swallow her whole. She just couldn't climb another step. She repeated the thought over and over.

_I cannot climb another step. I'll turn to ice and crumble in the wind._

To begin with, she'd counted the steps. She knew there were 7,000 in total. Perhaps counting would help break up the time. She'd gotten to 3, 799 and then given up - too tired to remember which number came next.

"How, by the Nine, does Klimmek do this?" She spoke aloud, working her hands free from the woolen mittens her mother had gifted her as she left Windhelm. She was used to the cold of the north, but climbing this mountain was something else entirely.

Fina rubbed at her face, slapping at her cheeks and neck to warm them. The cold was seeping into her legs from where they rested on the ground, and she knew that stopping had been a mistake.

She tugged the mittens back up, and heaved herself from her knees. Fina jumped up and down a few times, willing her legs back into action. She had taken her first step, when a sound shot through the air towards her like an arrow.

It was a strangled, desperate scream unlike anything she had ever heard. Immediately she was on alert, crouching down and pulling her bow free from where it rested on her back. She knocked an arrow into place, and surveyed the area around her.

She could hear something running at her. It sounded as if it were on two legs, but by the animalistic grunting and panting it was making, she knew it wasn't human. Fina could vaguely make out movement in front of her, but couldn't seem to lock her eyes on it for long enough to tell what it was.

All at once, the realization hit her. Frost troll. It was close enough now that she could distinguish its white hide from its snowy backdrop. She drew the arrow taut in the bow and took aim for the creatures head. On her in-breath, she fired.

The arrow soared away from her, but was carried upwards by the wind and above the troll's head. Fina swore under her breath and reloaded the bow, aiming again, but lower. This time it hit the creature in the shoulder.

It barely slowed down. She felt herself panic as the troll drew closer and closer. Now it seemed to be picking up its pace. She shot another arrow for its chest. This arrow hit it's mark, but instead of slowing the beast down it now it was angered into a run.

It was too close now. Too close for an arrow. Fina tossed her bow to the side of the path, and drew her sword. The heavy mittens made it difficult for her to grasp the hilt, and in her shaking fear, the blade dropped from her hands with a clang. It hit the steps and immediately began to slip backwards, falling further and further away from her.

She cried out, stripping the mittens from her hands. The troll was almost upon her now. She could make out its yellowed teeth and the blood stains around its mouth. Its beady eyes stared at her with an unintelligent rage. Fina fumbled, reaching for the dagger in her boot just as the creature flung itself at her.

They collided, both thrown backwards in the same direction as her sword. The troll was heavy and smelled of rot and hot shit. She screamed as its full weight crushed her against the stones. She felt its teeth bite into her left bicep, just as she rose her right arm and plunged her dagger into the side of its neck.

The beast spasmed, releasing her arm and rolling to the side where it shook and trembled. Fina found her right side dripping with it's blood. She let go of her dagger, rolling away from the troll.

She lay, panting in the snow and clutching her arm as pain blossomed through her entire body. Luckily it seemed all of the padding she had been wearing to fight the cold had prevented him from doing too much harm.

Once her shock had settled, Fina sat up and looked across at the troll. Its black eyes stared blankly at the sky. A river of blood seeped from its neck. Dead. She leaned over and pried the dagger from its flesh, wiping it clean on the beast's white fur before returning it to her boot.

Stumbling to her feet, she collected her sword and discarded mittens. She could feel the tight energy of adrenaline coursing through her and hoped it would last long enough to get her to High Hrothgar.

A ways up the hill she located her bow and returned that to its place on her back. Then, without giving herself a chance to think about it, she started back up the steps.

Fina wasn't even sure how long she had been climbing. She had set out at morning and knew that it was getting darker and colder. Her limbs were starting to tense up, although she wasn't sure if it was from just the cold and fatigue or if her body was going into shock from its recent injuries. She prayed to Talos that it wasn't the latter and picked up her pace.

Hours passed. Or minutes, Fina wasn't exactly sure. Her limbs moved mechanically. Foot, stair, foot, stair, foot, stair, foot, stair. She could feel herself leaning further and further forward, arms dangling before her. The wind whipped them around like tree branches.

She was slowing, watching the blood drip down her arm from her wound and down her bare fingers, leaving little red dots in the snow. Fina wondered vaguely where her mittens had gone. Her mother would be upset if she returned home without them.

It was then that she started to see things. There was someone by the edge of the road. A tall man with broad shoulders, golden-blonde hair and grand robes of fur. She recognized him all at once.

"Uncle." She breathed incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

Ulfric Stormcloak remained silent, simply wrapping an around her shoulders and walking along beside her. She leaned into him, using his body for support as they climbed.

"Almost there now, little Fina." He said to her…only his lips didn't move when he spoke and Fina found herself wondering whether she had heard his voice at all.

He pointed up ahead of them and Fina realized that it was dark out. In the distance, she could see a light.

It drew closer and closer with each step, and she could see the massive walls of High Hrothgar swell larger.

"Here you are." Ulfric stopped walking abruptly at the bottom of the steps up to the main doors.

"Thank you, Uncle." Fina turned to look at him, but he was gone. "Uncle?" She looked around wildly, afraid to be alone again.

"UNCLE!" She cried. She heard the great bang of doors opening and closing, and footsteps in front of her. "UNCLE!"

Fina felt a hand on her shoulder and spun forward again. A young man stood before her, black haired with eyes that glowed amber in the light of the torch he held. He was cloaked in massive black robes.

"Greybeard." She murmured with some recognition. The world swam around her, and she collapsed to the ground. The man dropped his torch to catch her, pulling her into his arms. He lifted her legs and she wrapped an arm around his neck, settling into his chest.

"Where is your grey beard, Greybeard?" She looked up into his eyes and saw that they were smiling at her. Fina giggled despite the situation, reaching up to poke at his chin where she had expected his beard to be. The skin was smooth. "Greybeardless."

And then the world went black.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik had been passing through the main hall when he heard the cries from outside. He knew that the Elders had summoned the Dragonborn, but they had not been expecting anyone else. They were never expecting anyone else, save for Klimmek when he brought supplies.

He snatched a torch from the wall, and pushed out of the main doors. He saw her, covered in frozen blood, face pale and haunted as she twisted back and forth. Her eyes were wild as she searched around her, glazed over. He knew she was not herself.

"UNCLE!"

Arik hurried down the steps towards her, tentatively setting one of his hands on her shoulder. Her attention snapped to him, and he saw for the first time that her hair was as red as the blood she wore. Eyes as deep and blue as the ocean stared up at him in bewildered awe.

When she began to fall, he dropped the torch and caught her, hoisting her up in his arms and tucking her against his chest. He looked down at her, to see her grinning like a fool.

"Where is your grey beard, Greybeard?" She asked him, and he couldn't help but smile down at her. Her body bubbled with laughter. "Greybeardless."

Her eyes slid closed as she said it, and Arik was reminded of her wounds. He needed to get her inside and warmed up.

He hurried back up the steps, and just as he was about to pull open the heavy door, it was opened for him. Arngeir stood on the other side, gesturing for him to hurry in.

Arik did as he was told, and followed the Elder down the hall and towards one of the empty bedrooms. Inside, Arik gently laid the girl on the bed and stepped back so Arngeir could set to work.

The old man started by freeing her outer robes, leaving them on the floor. She whimpered painfully in her sleep, and Arik felt a stab in his chest.

"Warm water, boy. Clean rags." Arngeir whispered urgently.

Arik bowed and left the room, hurrying towards the kitchen. Elder Borri was already there, pouring himself a cup of tea.

He gestured towards the warm water that was leftover, asking silent permission to take it. Borri nodded his permission, not sparing Arik a quizzical look.

Arik took the kettle of hot water and hurried out, gathering clean rags and a wooden bowl on his way. Back in the room with Arngeir, he could see that the girl had been stripped back to her tunic and breeches. The left arm of her tunic had been ripped away, revealing what appeared to be bite marks.

Arngeir was piling blankets on top of her. He checked the temperature of her forehead with his hand. Arik set the bowl on the floor and filled it with hot water from the kettle. He handed Arngeir a rag and the Elder set to work on cleaning her wounds.

Once he had cleaned the bite marks, he bound them tightly and tucked her arm under the blankets.

"We will leave her to sleep. It is possible she is the Dragonborn, but we will not know for sure until she wakes." Arngeir turned to Arik. "Sit with her. When she wakes, come to me."

Arik bowed to Arngeir as he left the room. Once the man was gone, Arik settled into a chair across from the bed. He wondered what sort of animal it was that had attacked her. He was happy to see that colour was returning to her face. She had been so pale when he had first seen her.

She couldn't be any older than him, Arik realized. She turned in her sleep, restless, face turned into a grimace. When she whimpered, he shot out of the chair by instinct and sunk to his knees by her side. He reached out and touched her forehead. She was warming up.

Her eyes fluttered open, taking him in for a moment. "Beardless." She murmured. She held her palm out to him, eyes flickering from his face to his own hand. He smiled, lifting his hand and setting it on top of hers. She closed her eyes, reassured, and wove her fingers into his, giving a weak squeeze.

Arik squeezed back. He waited several minutes like this, soaking in her face. The way her nose pointed, the way her eyes fluttered from time to time as if she were dreaming. He smoothed a few strands of burgundy hair from her face, allowing himself this small pleasure. It had been so long since he had comforted or been comforted. His gut twisted painfully at the memory of Syra hugging him and crying as he left.

He'd promised he would write her, but the Elders had forbidden it. This girl was a reminder of the life he had left behind. The thought of it almost brought him to tears. Arik squeezed his eyes shut and slowly disentangled himself from her.

He sat back in his chair and pressed a hand over his eyes, realizing for the first time that today was his 19th birthday.

_Happy Birthday, Arik._

It was Syra's voice in his head. She'd be nearly 14 now, all grown up. He wondered if she had been adopted, as he never had. He liked to think sometimes that she'd been taken in by a kind wealthy family. That they'd buy her fine dresses and feed her sweetrolls and give her toys to play with. It was what she had always deserved.

With these thoughts in mind, Arik drifted to sleep.

 


	3. Rope Burn

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina remembered the burn of ropes on her wrists. She felt each jolt and bump as the carriage passed over the uneven road into Helgen.

They'd been captured three days ago by the Imperials after a horrific and gory battle. Across from her, Ralof was spewing on, speaking with a Nord poacher the Imperials had thrown in with them.

Fina's attentions, however, were on her Uncle. They watched each other silently; they had bound Ulfric's mouth with cloth.

She was trying her best not to break down, but the situation seemed so dire. They had been captured. Ulfric has been captured. Surely this would end the war. There was no coming back from the execution that awaited them in Helgen.

Their wagon was unloaded and their names were called, each person taken towards the executioners block. Fina's Stormcloak uniform suddenly felt tight and itchy. She fidgeted inside it, her body felt like it was pouring sweat.

"Drojian of Ivarstead."

The young Stormcloak stumbled forwards and sunk to his knees before the block. He was crying, tears silently rolling down his cheeks, making paths through the dirt on his cheeks. Fina felt like she was choking.

The executioner raised his axe, and in one fluid motion, brought it down on Drojian's neck. There was a splash of blood, and then several bursts of it, jetting out from his neck like a fountain. His body twitched once and then fell still.

Fina looked away, unable to look while his decapitated head rolled away. It was the first execution, and the whole of Helgen seemed to fall into a solemn hush. Drojian's body was moved away.

"Norfina of Windhelm."

Someone grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her to her knees, forcing her neck against the already bloodied block. Terror surged through her. She felt like she might vomit. Would that be the last thing the Imperials would see of her? A dead Stormcloak coated in her own sick and blood, missing a head? She wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of her mother. She'd never see her again. What would become of her once the Imperials took over?

Suddenly, a great shadow moved across the courtyard. Fina's eyes flew open, and she looked up.

"What was that?" Someone said in wonder.

There was an ear crushing roar from above and then a massive black creature landed on the top of the building beside them.

"A dragon!"

Fina felt bile rise in her throat. The dragon's red eyes glared down at them and it opened its mouth to shriek again. Someone hoisted her up by the arm. It was Ulfric.

"Go with Ralof, Fina." He turned and ran for the gates of Helgen.

"Uncle!" She cried after him. She started to follow, but Ralof held her back.

"Fina, its too dangerous. He must go alone." He said, pulling her towards the tower.

People screamed as the dragon let forth a giant breath of fire. It was circling above them ominously.

Fina tripped, sprawling forward and landed hard, unable to catch herself with her bound hands. She looked up in time to see a jet of fire headed straight for her. She screamed -

She sat up, panting. She was too warm. Pain shot down her left arm from the shoulder and she cried out. After a few deep breaths she looked around wildly, unsure of where she was. The rope burns still felt raw on her wrists.

Beside her, someone started awake - the young man from last night. She remembered him from the steps, and then...nothing. She struggled with her memories, but all she saw was black.

He stood up and moved to her side, pushing her back gently. He removed one of the blankets that covered her, folding it neatly and setting it to the side.

"Hello." Her voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat, smiling shyly.

The man smiled back at her, and nodded but he didn't speak. He gestured to a cup on the table beside the bed. Fina reached out to it, making sure to use her right hand and save the left. She sat up enough that she could take a swallow. It was tea, but it had gone cold.

"Thank you." She set the cup aside and lay back down, feeling a little nauseous. "How long have I been asleep?"

The man held up a finger to indicate one.

"One day?"

He nodded to confirm. Fina didn't understand why he wasn't talking, but she could vaguely remember her Uncle mentioning that not all of the Greybeards spoke. Something about their voices being too powerful. She couldn't imagine this man having a powerful voice - he seemed too timid and sweet.

He held up a hand, signifying that she should stay put. Fina nodded, watching his back as he turned and hurried out of the room.

She stretched in bed, careful of her shoulder. Her body gave cracks and groans of protest. She looked down at it and could see that it had been bandaged. Fina could see a bowl of clean water and bandages beside the bed. She sat up, slowly unwrapping her arm so she could see the damage the troll had done.

Below the wrappings, she could see several puncture wounds from its teeth, but none of them were too deep. The worst part was the bruising. Her entire shoulder was a deep purple-blue, with green and yellow along the edges of the wound. She touched it gingerly, wincing.

Fina swung her legs out of the bed to sit on the edge. She set to work with washing the wound, and was just starting to wrap it again, when an older man entered the room.

"You're awake." He said softly, nodding his approval. "Let me help you." He took the bandage from her hands and finished tying it in place.

"Not all of you are mute, then?" She asked good-naturedly.

"I speak for the Greybeards. The rest, like Arik," He gestured over his shoulder to the young man who had been in her room earlier. "Have taken vows of silence."

Fina looked at Arik, who averted his eyes, clasping his hands and letting his too-large robes hide them from sight.

"My name is Arngeir."

"Fina." She responded in turn. "Thank you for your help, Arngeir."

"What was it that attacked you?"

"A frost troll. Nasty things."

"There have been more sightings recently on the steps." He lowered himself slowly into the chair across from her. "Or so I have been told."

"Klimmek said the same."

"What brings you to High Hrothgar, traveller?"

Fina was surprised, attention snapping to him. "You summoned me."

"Ah, we had hoped that the Dragonborn had come at last. When you are well, we shall need to put you to the test." At her look of concern, he continued. "Purely a precaution, you understand."

"Of course.." Fina felt nervous all the same. A test? What sort of a test? She knew that she was doing her Uncle and the Stormcloaks proud, but she still felt entirely unprepared for whatever being the Dragonborn meant.

"I will leave you to rest for now. Arik will fetch you some food from the kitchen."

"I owe you a debt, Arngeir."

"If you are who we suspect, it is us who owe you the debt." He pushed himself out of the chair and nodded to Arik who turned and headed out of the room.

Arngeir shut the door behind them, leaving Fina alone.

**A R I K**

* * *

"When she has eaten and rested, bring her to us in the courtyard." Arngeir turned and pushed open the door to the courtyard.

Arik took a deep breath, leaning back against the cold stone wall. Some part of him was filled with dread. He had become somewhat comfortable with his position with the Greybeards. He'd taken naturally to the training, even though the long hours of meditation had been difficult to begin with.

Now, Arik sensed that change was coming and he felt entirely unprepared for what lay ahead.

**xxxxx**

When he returned to her room, he carried a bowl of cabbage soup and a husk of bread. The Greybeards always ate light. It was difficult to get supplies, and it wasn't as if their lives were very physically straining. He'd known Elder Borri to meditate for days on end without stopping to eat or drink.

One day, he supposed, he would be the same. The idea was strange to him.

Fina was lying back with her eyes closed. He set down the food on the table beside her bed and retreated back to the door.

"Arik?"

He froze, looking back over his shoulder at her. She had propped herself up on her right elbow and was watching him quizzically.

"I know this may be an impossible request...but is there any clean clothing I could use?" She gestured at her left shoulder. "It appears that Arngeir has relieved me of one of my sleeves."

Her smile was infectious, and he found himself returning it. He bowed his head, agreeing, although he wasn't sure what the Greybeards would have around as far as clothing went. The moment he'd arrived, they'd put him in the black robes, even though they dwarfed him entirely.

Arik could still remember his first day at High Hrothgar. He was exhausted from his climb up the steps, and his stomach had been churning with hunger. The moment Klimmek had left him, Arngeir had begun his instruction with no pause or offer of refreshment.

It was explained to him that over the next couple of days, he would be trained in a basic understanding of the Thu'um and The Way of the Voice. Little did he know that the following week he would be required to swear oaths of silence and celibacy. He would never be permitted to speak or know the intimacy of another for his entire life. He hadn't spoken a word in a week shy of three years.

Arik closed the door behind him and headed to his own bedroom. His wooden toy horse sat dutifully on his bedside table, a reminder of his days in the orphanage. He opened the chest at the end of his bed, and found that his two old tunics were still there.

They were small - he'd been a thin stick of a boy when he was sixteen. He had filled out since, not that anyone would ever know it from his robes. Regardless, he gauged that Fina would be slender enough to fit into them.

He gathered the tunics and folded them over his arm. When he was back in the room with Fina, she took them, unfolding one so she could take a look at it.

"Thank you, Arik."

Arik gestured at himself, and then held his hand at his shoulder, trying to express to Fina that they were his when he was younger.

"Yours?" She asked. When he nodded, she continued. "How long have you been here?"

He held up his fingers to show three.

"Three months?"

He shook his head and pointed up, higher.

"Three years?"  _Yes._

"I'd ask you how you came to be here, but I'm not sure there would be enough hand signals for you to explain." Fina looked up at him quizzically. Arik wondered if she thought him crazy for choosing this life. Truth be told, he hadn't had many other options - the orphanage will only care for you until you turn sixteen. After that, you're entirely on your own. It is not an easy transition. Even since he'd been old enough to read The Way of the Voice Arik had known he wanted to join the Greybeards,.

"Do you mind?" She held up the tunic. Arik didn't understand.

"I just want to put this on."

Oh. He felt his face heat, and he turned quickly and moved outside, shutting the door. He wanted to kick himself.

In a few minutes, he heard her call for him.

She'd picked up the bowl and was cradling it awkwardly so she could eat without straining herself. He liked the look of his old tunic on her, its deep green colour complemented her hair well.

"Please." She gestured to the chair. Arik sat slowly, folding his hands in his lap and glancing around the room. Anywhere but her and her searching eyes.

"This place is so quiet." Fina murmured. "Its old and spooky."

After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "You must have been, what, eighteen when you came here?"

Arik pointed down.

"Seventeen?"

Arik pointed down again.

"Surely not sixteen?"

He nodded.

"Weren't you afraid of this place? It feels so haunted."

He shrugged, and was rewarded by her laugh.

"You must be braver than I am, Arik. This can't be an easy life."

Arik had so much he suddenly wanted to say to her. That he had been terrified when he came here. That he had been used to sleeping in a room with a dozen other children, and that he had never felt so alone. How he had cried everytime he was alone for weeks and weeks. He wanted to tell her that sometimes he was still afraid. The words inside him were like angry waves, crashing and beating against the rocky cliff that was his silence.

Fina finished her soup and set it to the side. "I guess its time for my test." She stood up slowly. "Will you be there while I do it?"

_Yes_. Arik held open the door for her and she moved towards it, stopping to glance up at him.

"That's good. I have a feeling you will bring me luck."


	4. Spectral

**F I N A**

* * *

It was much colder outside than Fina had anticipated. She shivered against the chill. There was a rustling behind her and then Arik settled a cloak around her shoulders. She glanced back at him and saw that it was his own - he now stood in a simple black robe.

"Thank you."

Arik gestured forwards, and Fina followed the direction he pointed. In the middle of the icy courtyard, stood four cloaked figures. As she drew nearer, she could make out Arngeir but the rest were unfamiliar to her.

"Fina," Arngeir gestured for her to join them. "Are you ready to begin?"

She nodded, self-consciously drawing Arik's cloak closer around her as she looked from Elder to Elder. The cloak was still warm from his body heat.

"Elder Borri will grant you the first word of the Thu'um, Unrelenting Force." Arngeir said, and one of the Elder's stepped forwards. "Stand in the centre of the circle."

Fina did as she was told. Elder Borri closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his mouth, a word unlike anything she had ever heard tumbled from his lips and to the ground as a ball of light. As it hit the stone, the ball of light burst, leaving behind jagged symbols that Fina recognised as dragon language.

The word,  _Fus_ , reverberated loudly against the stone walls, causing the very ground to shake as it landed. It was so loud that Fina had to fight the urge to cover her ears.

"Touch the word." Arngeir instructed.

Fina bent, tentatively placing her hand against the glowing symbol. As she did, a bolt of heat shot through her arm and up. She gasped, tumbling backwards onto her ass. In her mind, she could now clearly see the symbol, as if something had been unlocked in her memory. She felt inside for the power she'd received when she killed the dragon Mirmulnir and his soul had inhabited her body. Somehow, she sensed that she could activate Fus using this power. She pulled at it, and felt something click into place in her mind.

"Good. Now that you have learned the shout, you must learn how to use it." Arngeir waited while Fina got to her feet, and then indicated a straw dummy across the courtyard. "Aim your Thu'um at the target."

She took a deep breath, moving so that she was squared in front of it. Closing her eyes, she summoned the Thu'um in her mind, and then opened her mouth and let it forth. In a voice that sounded completely foreign to her own ears, she shouted at the dummy.

" _FUS!_ "

The dummy spun on its stick, shaking wildly. The snow shifted on the ground and several nearby bushes trembled. Fina covered her mouth and gasped, shocked at what she had just done. She took several steps back from the dummy.

"So, the Dovahkiin has indeed returned." Arngeir stood beside her, looking pleased.

"I -" Fina swallowed. "I can't believe I did that."

"You will do that and more, Fina." He responded. "There are two words remaining to complete Unrelenting Force and bring it to full strength."

Fina turned to look back at the others, who all were smiling at her. Elder Borri stepped up to her and again dropped a ball of light to the ground. It formed two more distinct words. She found herself looking at him for confirmation, and when Borri nodded Fina knelt and placed her hand on the symbols.

This time, she was ready for the impact. She braced herself, letting the sensation of fire course through her. When she finished, she felt at the new words. They had melded into one and instinctively she knew that the shout was complete.

"You will need to test the full shout."

Fina nodded and stood up again.

"It will be much more powerful this time, so step over here." He indicated a spot ten feet away from the edge of the cliff.

"Ready yourself."

She did as she was told.

With a wave of his hand, Arngeir summoned a spectral giant. The translucent blue beast stood before her, a cry of rage building in its throat.

Fina had not been expecting this. As the creature turned towards her, it raised its great club, and took a step towards her.

Behind her, the Greybeards retreated out of the way.

She barely had time to think. The giant swung his club and, as if in slow motion, she watched it on its path towards her head.

"Now, Dovahkiin!" Arngeir called.

Fina pulled the energy from her core, and opening her mouth let forth the Thu'um.

" _FUS RO DAH!_ "

The giant was ripped off its feet and flung backwards off the cliff. It soared straight for what must have been thirty feet before it vanished in a puff of blue smoke.

Fina sunk to her knees, panting. It felt as though the energy had been completely drained from her body and she was left weak and breathless.

"That will become easier with time." Arngeir offered his hand to her. She accepted and let him help her to her feet. "When you have consumed more dragon souls and learned more shouts, your body will adapt."

She nodded, almost afraid to open her mouth and speak again lest she accidentally shout.

"We will train you in our ways, Dovahkiin. Today you should rest - you will still be weak from your injury." Arngeir turned to Arik and gestured him forward.

"Show Fina to the bathing room, it will do her body good to be cleaned."

Arik nodded, and turned back towards the doors. Fina followed him, still with a hand locked over her mouth. She had felt so ready to take this on when she had left Windhelm. Her Uncle had held a feast in her name, telling the people that their saviour had come. He was so certain having the Dragonborn on his side would win the war that she couldn't help but believe it, too.

Now she just felt small and unprepared.

Inside, Arik lead her down the hall opposite of the bedrooms. He turned a couple of corners, and then pushed open a broad wooden door. Inside, there was a large washtub beside the largest fireplace that Fina had ever seen. Over the hearth, on a giant frame, hung a huge pot with steam rolling off the top of it. Arik walked over to it and pulled on a lever attached to the side of the frame, which tipped the pot, pouring hot water into the washtub.

Fina had never seen anything like it. In moments, the entire tub was filled with steaming water. At home, it would take trip after trip after trip with the kettle to the washtub, and even then the tub was only ever half full.

"I -" Fina froze, hand back over her mouth. She stood still, waiting for the walls to collapse around her and the ground to shake at the sound of her voice.

Nothing happened.

Arik shook his head and pressed her arm, pushing it down and away from her mouth.

Fina laughed nervously. "I was worried...I mean...I…"

Arik tilted his head down, and their eyes met. Fina hadn't realised that he was several feet taller than she was, and yet, she felt such a tenderness from him, like he was the most gentle creature she'd ever laid eyes on. Fina forgot her current train of thought and looked away, back towards the wash tub.

She cleared her throat. "I've never seen something like that."

He moved past her, taking a blanket-sized cloth from a shelf and setting it by the edge of the tub for her. He also got a bar of soap and a washcloth.

Fina watched Arik walk towards the door, feeling something in her chest seize up and squeeze tight. She felt brimming with emotion and was entirely overwhelmed by her current situation. She wished that Arik could speak to her.

"Oh, Arik." He stopped at the door and look back at her.

She stripped off his cloak and walked to him, handing it over. "Thanks again."

Once he was gone, Fina set to work undressing. She stripped away Arik's tunic, her breeches, small clothes, and finally her bandage. The wound was hot to the touch and she knew this meant it was healing. She carefully climbed into the tub, hissing as the hot water leached into her, shaking the cold from her bones.

She lay back, dunking herself and staying there for as long as she could hold her breath. The heat felt amazing on her aching body; she must have been covered in bruises from when the troll had jumped on her. Fina could remember the pain of hitting against the stone steps.

When she surfaced, she reached for the soap and cloth. She scrubbed at her filthy skin and then set to work on her knotted hair. She combed through it with her fingers as best she could, smoothing it out until it felt like silk in the water.

Fina stayed in the tub until the water went cold. When she climbed out, her fingers and toes looked like horker skin. She dried herself off and changed back into her clothes.

Back in the hall, she half expected Arik to be waiting for her but there was no one in sight. Fina hoped she would remember the way back to her room. She remembered that they took a couple of turns, but she had been so wrapped in her thoughts on the way there that she didn't know in which direction.

After a few minutes of wandering, she came across a large room that seemed to be some sort of temple. She walked in, looking towards the statue of Kyne tall and regal on an altar. Kneeling before the statue, Fina closed her eyes, silently praying to the Divine for strength.

Her mind was drawn to Whiterun. When she thought on it, she could still feel Mirmulnir's soul soaking into her body. Everything had felt so unreal until this point, but with the power of Unrelenting Force burning in her gut, there was no way for her to doubt the reality of the situation.

There was a shuffling to her left, and Fina looked up quickly. On the wooden bench in the first row sat Arik. He must have been there the whole time.

Fina shot to her feet. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were here." She was embarrassed to have been caught, worried she wasn't meant to be there.

Arik patted the bench beside him, and she was reassured that it was okay.

**A R I K**

* * *

He watched her quietly walk into the room and sink to her knees. Arik could smell the soap she had used, and subconsciously took a deep breath of it. He realised that she hadn't seen him yet, so he waited, observing.

She seemed to be praying. Her hands clasped before her and her eyes squeezed shut. He could see the fear and uncertainty on her face and he ached to relieve her of it. After awhile, he purposely shuffled his feet about to alert her of his presence.

By the way she snapped up immediately, Arik knew that she was a guarded being. She had been wearing Stormcloak blue when she arrived, and he wondered if she had been part of their army. Her build, although slender, was muscular enough that it would suggest a history of fighting.

There were so many things that he wanted to ask her. Not for the first time, Arik felt a strong sense of frustration rise within him...and something more. Yearning? All of his training, all of the meditation he'd done, the entirety of the past three years of his life had been geared towards control of his thoughts and emotions. Control was key and something you had to have a firm grip on before you could even begin The Way of the Voice. Even with all of this, something about Fina completely undid him.

He patted the bench beside him, and she came to sit. She clasped her hands, wringing them nervously in her lap.

Arik, of course, remained silent and watched her, willing her to speak to him. After so long without hearing a voice, hers was like fine music.

"Are you happy here, Arik?"

He hadn't expected that question. He took a moment to consider it before he nodded.

"It must be hard to be away from you family." She mused. "Do your parents write to you?"

Arik shook his head.  _If only I had the words!_

"Hmm. You are a puzzle." Fina sighed, tucking some of her wet hair behind her ear. "What if you were to write your answers? Would that be allowed?"

He thought about it, he felt, logically, like that should be fine. He wasn't truly speaking and he wasn't going to do any damage. Still...some part of him felt like it was something to be kept secret from the others. Regardless, he nodded.

Arik felt her eyes on him as he stood and walked to a door on the left of the temple - inside was Arngeir's study. He took a sheet of parchment, an ink pot, and a quill from the desk.

Fina smiled as he returned. He sat on the floor facing the bench so that he could use it as a writing surface.

_I was raised in an orphanage just outside of Whiterun._  He wrote.

"I'm sorry." Her look softened, and he felt his heartbeat pick up. "That must have been difficult. Weren't you adopted?"

Arik shook his head.

"I can see why you would be happy here, then. It seems like a very serene place."

Arik shrugged.  _It is an honour._

Fina seemed to be pondering that, because she looked away and bit at her lip. "An honour." She echoed his words. "My Uncle said that same thing to me when I left Windhelm to come here."

_You called for him the night I found you._

She nodded. "I think I was hallucinating. When I felt like I couldn't go on any further, he came to me and helped me."

_You must be close._

"My father - his brother - died when I was young. Ulfric was like a father to me."

Ulfric? Arik's brows knit together and he looked at her questioningly. Surely not Ulfric Stormcloak?

Fina laughed, guessing his thoughts. "Yes, that Ulfric." She turned sideways on the bench, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "He is a good man."

_Do you fight alongside him?_

"Yes, I'm part of the army. I'm not sure if you receive any news here, but we were captured. A month back, the Imperials captured my Uncle and I and a dozen more Stormcloak soldiers. We were to be executed." She looked distant.

_What happened?_

"A dragon." Fina smiled down at him. "My neck was on the executioner's block and a dragon attacked. It saved my life, in a roundabout way."

Arik nodded for her to continue, curious.

"We escaped separately. I followed a fellow soldier to his home in Riverwood. The people there asked that I alert the Jarl of Whiterun of the dragon attack. While I was there, another dragon - Mirmulnir - attacked the western watchtower." She paused, seemingly lost in the memory.

"When we felled the dragon, I took its soul without knowing such a thing was possible. When the Greybeards summoned me, I went back to Windhelm to find my Uncle. He trained here in the past, and so he knew what this meant. To be Dragonborn. I had never seen him so excited. He is certain now that we can win the war."

_That puts a heavy weight on your shoulders._

Fina opened her mouth to respond, but stopped when they heard someone clear their throat. Arngeir stood at the entrance to the temple.

"Perhaps," He said with a pointed look at Arik, "You should show Fina back to her room. After that, I believe you should be meditating."

Arik jumped up, the paper in his hand. Fina stood. "I'm sorry, I was lost and ended up here."

Arngeir didn't respond to her, instead he gave Arik a stern look and snatched the paper from his hand. He crumpled it and tossed it into a burning offering urn before the altar. The paper was consumed by fire in a matter of seconds. Arik swallowed the lump in his throat.

Fina didn't speak again as Arik lead her from the temple and back to her room. He felt chastised, and his cheeks were burning with shame. Arik didn't even allow himself to meet her searching gaze once they reached her door. He just turned, and hurried to his own room, shutting himself off from her.

_Kyne grant me strength._  He leaned against the door, sliding down it until he sat on the cold stone floor. Arik held his head in his shaking hands.

 


	5. Before It's Begun

**A R I K**

* * *

That night, Arngeir came to his room. Arik stood, staring at the floor as the old man paced before him. He could feel the tension between them, but knew any anger his teacher felt would be carefully concealed by years of trained restraint.

"I am aware it is a technicality, Arik, and that you didn't actually speak." He said finally. Unfortunately, his words did not relieve any of the stress Arik was feeling. "But every time you communicate, it should be only for the glory of the Divines. That is your life, the life you have chosen. The vows you have made."

Arik's hands balled into fists and he swallowed, carefully masking his face in stone. How had he been so careless? It hadn't felt like it could do any harm, but hearing it worded like that...He owed the Greybeards a great debt for taking him in - one that he could never repay. For agreeing to train him in their ways, the Way of the Voice, the things he had read over and over from the frayed pages of the book his father left behind.

"Do you understand?" He stopped pacing and stood before Arik.

He nodded, eyes still on the floor.

"I do not forget how difficult the first few years here are. You are fighting against all the ideals that sixteen years of your life have taught you." Arngeir sighed and placed a hand on Arik's shoulder. Finally, he looked up into the milky grey of the old man's eyes.

"I think you should spend the next few days in solitary meditation." He turned, and left Arik standing in the wake of his words. Arik was fully aware that this was punishment, but he knew that it was for the best - being around Fina was bringing things up that were best left alone and gathering dust in the back of his mind.

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina didn't see Arik for the next three days. She worked with Arngeir and Borri, who taught her another Thu'um - Whirlwind Sprint - and where she was likely to find more on her travels of Skyrim. They went through the history of dragons, and of Dragonborns from the past. There was a lot to fit her head around, and to be entirely honest she didn't see the point to many of the history lessons.

It wasn't until Arngeir decided it was time to show her the basics of their meditation that she saw Arik again. The other Elders were all in the temple - Borri, Einarth, and Wulfgar - sitting on the floor in front of the altar with their legs crossed. Arik was among them.

Arngeir gestured for her to sit on the floor behind them in the aisle between the wooden benches.

"The entire point of meditation," He explained, "Is to gain control over your thoughts and emotions."

Fina sat and crossed her legs, mimicking the others and keeping her back straight and shoulders relaxed.

"Good." Arngeir commented on her posture. "Now, keep your gaze soft and look at the floor before you."

Fina did as she was told, entirely unsure of this activity or how it could help.

"The trick is to focus on your breathing. Feel each breath in your body, in your gut." Arngeir planted his hand on his stomach, taking a deep breath and demonstrating. "The idea is to calm your thoughts and any feelings you are having, and keep them in check. When thoughts and emotions do arise, simply let them go and return to your breathing."

In theory, it sounded simple enough. However, as Fina tried to clear her mind and focus on her breathing, it seemed a dozen thoughts occurred to her all at once.

The first of which, was Arik. She didn't dare look right at him, but was well aware of his shape in her peripherals. She had felt a terrible loneliness without his calming presence over the last few days. She couldn't help but feel responsible - doubtless Arngeir had given him trouble for their interactions in the temple.

She couldn't see the harm in it, but, as she'd learned over the last few days, there was so much she clearly didn't understand about the Way of the Voice.

_You're thinking_. She chastised herself, and tried to return to her breathing.

They continued like this for some time, until her back was aching and her mind was screaming at itself to be quiet. Finally, Arngeir stood.

"It is time for a meal, I think." As he said it, the others stood as well and together they all headed towards the kitchens.

Although Arik didn't look at her, or acknowledge her, she did catch him sneak a look out of the corner of his eye. Fina fell in step behind him, and couldn't help her small smile.

In the kitchen, it seemed like everyone had their own job. Borri set to work boiling water for tea, Arik cleared the table and set out silverware, plates, and a fresh loaf of dense brown bread. Wulfgar was stirring a pot of the soup base over the hearth, occasionally dropping in a clove or pinch of salt and tasting the result. Einarth was butchering a rabbit, cutting off bits of its flesh which he then gave to Wulfgar to add to the soup.

Arngeir enlisted Fina's help to chop up carrots and potatoes to add to the soup. Eventually, all the ingredients were put together and everyone sat at the table to drink their tea while it bubbled away.

It was strange to sit in such total silence, especially when so many of them were together for a meal. Any meals she had had so far were taken in her room or with Arngeir. She found herself examining each of the Elders. All of them had long beards, and their faces were weathered and wrinkled from age. She wondered just how old they were, and why they hadn't taken on more apprentices. Surely they would need more students to take over from them, especially now that dragons had returned to Tamriel?

Borri seemed to be the eldest. His eyes were glazed and black and she suspected he sometimes had a hard time seeing. Wulfgar was the most youthful of the Elders and Fina had always felt a friendly energy from him. She often caught him smiling at her. Einarth was hardened and had a long scar down his cheek. Sometimes he rubbed at it absently as if it still pained him.

She found it interesting how she could sense certain things about them without having ever spoken to them, or even spent much time with them. Her eyes fell on Arik.

He fidgeted with a fork, turning it back and forth in his hands almost nervously. He must have felt her gaze, for he glanced up briefly. When he did, Arngeir gave a pointed look to the fork in his hands. He set it down on the table with a click and turned to stare into the flames licking the bottom of the soup pot.

Fina felt a sadness shadow over her, and took a long sip of her tea to try and steer her mind away from that topic.

When the soup was ready, Wulfgar ladled it into bowls and Arik carried them to the table. It was a surprising change from the normal cabbage soup they had, and Fina ate it more quickly than she should have.

"Rest, Fina. Think on what you learned today." Arngeir said, passing her a piece of bread. She took it gratefully and left the kitchen, heading back to her room. Fina decided she was due some midday sleep.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik watched as Fina stood from the table and left the kitchen, only looking back at his soup when Wulfgar gave him a warning look. Luckily, Arngeir didn't seem to have noticed. He nodded his thanks to Wulfgar, who winked.

Secretly, Wulfgar was his favourite of the Elders. He seemed to have the most spirit beneath the calm exterior the Greybeards shared. He was always the quickest to smile and there was always laughter in his eyes.

Borri was kind and had endless patience, but was so devoted to the Way that there was no room for playfulness or fun.

Arngeir looked between them, and Wulfgar's face went placid immediately. Arik echoed, locking his features away so Arngeir couldn't see that there had been any exchange between them. When Arngeir looked away again, Wulfgar smiled down at his soup.

Arik excused himself a short while later, heading back to his room. Outside of his door, he looked across the hall to Fina's room, knowing how easy it would be for him to cross over and knock on the door. How easy it would be to listen to her voice, hear the stories of her life and watch the way her mouth moves when she talks.

He pushed open the door to his room and shut it on his thoughts.

**xxxxx**

Another two days passed and he barely saw anything of Fina. They were only in the same room during their meditation and evening meals. Arngeir purposely kept her locked in academic conversations at one end of the table, asking her how her meditation was going and if she had any questions.

Quite often, he felt her eyes on him when Arngeir looked away. He refused to look back at her, instead pretending that his food was the most interesting thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

On the third day, she didn't show up for the evening meal. Afterwards, he headed to the temple to meditate.

She was there.

He froze in the doorway, meaning to turn and leave before she saw him.

"Arik." Fina turned and looked at him.

Arik shook his head and stepped backwards into the hallway. Seeing he was retreating, Fina stood from the bench and hurried towards him. She caught his wrist and pulled him back a step.

He looked down, heart speeding in his chest.  _This shouldn't be happening._

Fina let go of his wrist, eyes searching his face. It hurt for him to look at her.

"Have I done something? Have I upset you?" It was a desperate whisper.

Arik shook his head quickly.  _No. No. No._

"Did Arngeir...did I...were you in trouble?"

He met her eyes, catching the worried expression on her face as the realisation set in. He wished he could explain it to her, that he could tell her it wasn't her fault. Arik could see her thought process simply by watching her eyes. As she went over their interaction, Arngeir's face, his silence over the last few days, his reluctance even to be near to her. He wanted to stop her worry in its tracks, the need to comfort her was nearly overwhelming.

_Fina, no_. He tried to communicate with his eyes.  _It isn't your fault._

"I'm so sorry Arik." She covered her mouth, shaking her head.

Arik put a hand on her arm, shaking his head.  _It isn't your fault._

Fina pressed her fingers over his, and he closed his eyes, soaking in the warm touch.

"I'm so sorry."

He felt the magnetism from her eyes, their cool comforting glow. Arik dropped his hand to his side and stepped back. He smiled sadly.

She nodded, understanding, and also took a step back, putting more distance between them. Arik turned and left the temple and Fina behind.

**F I N A**

* * *

People screamed around her as the dragon let forth a giant breath of fire. It was circling above them ominously.

Fina tripped, sprawling forward and landed hard, unable to catch herself with her bound hands. She looked up in time to see a jet of fire headed straight for her. She screamed, and felt the flames engulf her. She felt her skin bubble and heard it hiss as it began to melt from her bones and drip to the dirt around her.

But she wasn't in Helgen anymore. Fina looked up, shrieking at the sky as pain entirely consumed her, and saw the dragon.

" _Zu'u hin daan, Dovahkiin. Zu'u Alduin, zok sahrot do naan ko Lein! Di kiiree fen alok!_ " Although he spoke the Dragon tongue, Fina understood every word spoken from between his bloodstained fangs.

"I am your doom, Dragonborn. I am Alduin, most mighty of any in the World! My children will arise."

Fina screamed again and again as he shot more flames at her. Around her lay a puddle of her molten skin, the stench like boiling vomit and rotting meat.

" _Zu'u hin daan._ " He repeated, glowing crimson eyes boring into her soul.

**A R I K**

* * *

He couldn't sleep. He sat at the foot of his bed, staring out the window and watching the snow swirl across the stars. His thoughts were restless.

Arik heard her whimper before the sobbing started. With his room so close, he heard each noise she made with piercing clarity. It wasn't until he heard her tossing in the bed that he made up his mind to wake her.

_That's all. I will just wake her and then leave again. That is all._

He walked across the hall and pushed open her door. Fina was covered in sweat, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was tangled in her blankets, fighting against them.

" _Niid, niid, niid, niid, niid._ "* She repeated over and over. " _Aaz, aaz Alduin. Aaz._ " **

Arik sat beside her, taking her shoulders and shaking her. She awoke with a gasp, sitting straight up and wrapping her fingers around his neck.

He withdraw his hands from her, holding them up in submission.

When her dream cleared, she dropped her hand. "Arik." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, her body shaking as new sobs took her.

He couldn't leave her in this state.

Arik moved instinctually, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her, drawing her into his chest. She clung to him, taking his robes in her fists and crying into his shoulder.

He stroked her back and hair, humming deep in his throat in what he hoped was a comforting tone. He rested his chin on her head, arms tightening protectively.

After a few minutes, she went still. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest and held his breath when she raised her face to look at him.

Arik loosened his grip on her, brushing tears from her face with the pad of his thumb.

"I don't know if I can do this, Arik." She murmured, hands still clutched to the front of his robes.

_Of course you can_. He smiled at her, brushing the hair out of her eyes. She let him go and wiped her nose on the sleeve of the tunic she wore.

**F I N A**

* * *

"I just...I…" She searched his face, and suddenly she wasn't sure if she was talking about being the Dragonborn, or if she was talking about whatever it was between her and Arik. She could feel it right now, the way he wiped the tears from her cheeks, and touched her hair. It was so clear in the way he looked at her, with his eyes soft and warm. She doubted if he even fully realized it himself.

Fina shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Oh, Arik." She sighed and pressed a hand over his heart. "It wasn't supposed to go like this, was it?"

The realisation of what she meant showed on his face. His eyes dropped, and he gathered his hands in his lap.

"Am I a fool?"

He shook his head adamantly, and took her hand, holding it in both of his.

"But this has to be the end of it, doesn't it?"  _Before its even begun._

Arik examined her hand, stroking the palm, each finger in turn. The way he was so careful with her left her breathless, she'd never been treated this way before.

It wasn't that she hadn't been with others. The army is a ruthless, lonely environment. There were nights where the only thing that had kept her going was rough hands and quick breath, pressed against a tree. Pure animalistic need with no time for affection or kindness. Always over as quickly as it had been initiated.

This was entirely different.  _He_  was entirely different.

Fina pressed a hand to his cheek, turning his face towards her. He hesitantly looked up at her, and that look told her everything she needed to know. He belonged here. He had made vows, dedicated his life to this. She couldn't be responsible for putting that in jeopardy.

She smiled and pulled her hands away from him. It couldn't go on. They both had destinies beyond this.  _It would be selfish._

"In another life."

Arik gazed out the window and rubbed at his temples absently. After a long moment, he nodded and stood up. Fina stood too, and they looked at each other for a small eternity.

Once he was gone Fina felt a hollowness settle into her chest.

* * *

* "No, no, no, no, no."

** "Mercy, mercy Alduin. Mercy."


	6. The Final Test

**F I N A**

* * *

An agonizing week passed. Arngeir had her meditating for hours a day, practising shouts in the courtyard, and reciting the entire life of Jurgen Windcaller from memory.

When she felt as if she couldn't go on another day, Arngeir came to her in the morning.

"You have progressed well, Fina." He commended her. "It is time for your final test."

Fina felt her mouth fall open in surprise - she hadn't know there was going to be a final test.

"You are to go to Ustengrav, the resting place of Jurgen Windcaller. There, you will find his horn which you'll remember from our lessons. Bring the horn back to us, and we will officially declare to all that you are the Dovahkiin."

She swallowed, crossing her arms. "What's the catch?"

Arngeir smiled at her knowingly. "Well, there is no catch." He paused. "That being said, the tomb has been abandoned for centuries - I do not doubt that it may now be home to draugr or perhaps bandits."

Fina nodded. She subconsciously rolled her injured shoulder. It was tight and sore and she still kept it bandaged while the punctures healed over, but she was in good enough shape for battle. She wished she had kept up with her swordplay practise - she was probably more than a little out of shape.

"Prepare yourself today. You will leave tomorrow. I asked Klimmek to bring you some fresh clothing for your journey."

**xxxxx**

Fina slept fitfully that night, but she didn't dream. She awoke before the sun had risen and took a bath in the massive washtub by the fire.

Arik was waiting for her in her room when she finished. A new backpack sat on the bed, and he was just setting down two new tunics and a pair of doeskin leggings. He'd also laid out her armour, fur boots, and cloak. Her bow, quiver, and sword sat propped against a chair.

She stood in the doorway, wearing a long black robe that Arngeir had given her to wear while she was here. She watched him smooth out the tunics, and cleared her throat. He looked up at her in surprise. Fina hadn't see him all this week and didn't realise until this moment, as she took in his copper eyes and shaggy black hair, that she had missed him.

"I need to change." Fina said softly. Arik bowed his head, turning to leave. "Don't go." Her breath caught in her throat. "I, um. I'll need help with the bandage. If you could just turn around for a second."

His expression was unreadable.

Once Arik had turned his back, Fina stripped away the long black robe, leaving her completely naked from the waist up. She pulled at the tunic from where it sat on the bed. Without thinking, she had used her left arm and when she pulled her arm up, it bent at a funny angle. She felt a pain shoot up into her shoulder.

She cried out and dropped the tunic to the floor. When she straightened up, she moved too quickly and the action irritated her shoulder even more. She swore under her breath.

Arik spun around, concern written clearly on his features. When he saw her naked breasts and bare legs, they both froze. For a long moment they stared at each other, neither of them reacting. Their eyes met, and Fina could feel her face enflame with red. She saw that heat reflected back from Arik's eyes.

All at once, they remembered themselves. Fina wrapped her arms around herself, hiding her nakedness as Arik snapped around and stared at the wall.

Her breath was quick in her chest and Fina pressed a hand to her eyes, willing her heart to calm. She wrapped a cloth across her breasts and tied it tight, keeping them from sight. Then she pulled on the leather leggings and slowly picked up the tunic.

"Um, Arik." She said softly. "Could you help?" Fina picked up a clean bandage and held it out to him.

Arik turned slowly, his eyes averted as he stepped forward and took the bandage. He began to gently wrap it around her shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes. Fina could see the pink on his cheeks.

He was standing so close that she could smell the sage on his robes and see the fine stubble on his chin. His breath stirred her hair and she found herself closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of his gentle hands on her arm, however innocent.

When he finished tying her arm, his fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, smoothing the bandage as if he couldn't bare to step away yet. Fina didn't want him to.

Without giving herself time to think the action through, Fina raised her right hand and clutched his.

"Arik." She looked up slowly, finding his eyes. She risked raising her fingers to his cheek and brushing a strand of ebony hair out of the way. His breath was shallow as he closed his eyes, fingers twitching in hers as his thumb swept across her palm.

Although he could not say it, Fina understood the touch. She knew that this feeling that she kept bound in her chest was not hers alone; she knew he carried it too. The impossibility of the situation struck her again and she was out of words.

Arik gave a final squeeze to her fingers and then took two steps back, putting distance between them that Fina begrudgingly knew was necessary.

When they looked at each other again, Fina could see the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. She cleared her throat and looked away, picking up the tunic and carefully pulling it on. She was just pulling on her armour and cloak when Arngeir entered.

He cast a look at Arik which let him know he was dismissed. Without another glance at her, he left the room. Fina felt a sting of pain, which she carefully kept locked inside. She smiled at Arngeir and pulled on her boots, shouldering her pack on the right side.

"Are you ready?" He asked her.

She spoke without the hesitation she felt in her heart. "Yes."

Fina headed out and left High Hrothgar behind.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik stood in the shadows of the main hall and watched Fina as she left. Part of him left with her. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but - as he would be for the rest of his life - Arik was silent.

**F I N A**

* * *

The journey took her two days. Arngeir had included a map in her pack, where he clearly marked Ustengrav.

When she arrived, it didn't look like much more than a hole in the ground. She climbed down the steps to the entrance, noting the recently deceased body of - judging by their armour - a bandit.

Fina drew her sword and pushed open the doors to the tomb. Inside, she could hear shouting. She crouched low, creeping past the spider webs, burial urns, and ancient ferns that sprouted from between the cracks in the rock.

When she grew closer to the noises, she peaked from around the corner. There were two bandits and a necromancer fighting. The necromancer had risen a skeleton, which fought alongside it.

It didn't take long before the necromancer had taken care of the bandits. Bandits were often runaways and petty criminals - inexperienced and naive, especially when it came to fighting against magic.

She watched as he left the room, the blue glowing skeleton following behind.

Fina darted out from her hiding place, working her way across the room. She checked both of the bandits, making sure they were dead. They were.

In the next room, she watched as the necromancer completed a puzzle which opened a gate. Once it slid open, there was a crash as two grave covers shattered to the floor. From the graves, came two draugr.

The necromancer's skeleton was knocked down immediately by one of them. Draugr are stupid and slow, but strong. The only bit of their brain that is left is the part that tells them how to swing a sword. One of them turned towards the doorway, its glowing blue eyes lighting on Fina.

She backed up a step, worried now that the necromancer would also see her and then she'd have two enemies to fight at once. Luckily, before the draugr could get too far, the necromancer zapped it with a lethal dose of lightning.

But that didn't mean that the necromancer didn't see her.

His eyes glowed red as he lifted his hands, a ball of energy forming between his fingertips. The two draugr rose, heading towards her. Fina straightened, readying herself, and then charged. She cried out, slicing one draugr across the stomach, sending it to its knees. She hit it on the head with the pommel of her sword, and it fell.

The other draugr was rather useless to the necromancer, seeing as he had cut off its head. Fina dodged it and charged the necromancer, hoping to catch him by surprise. It worked. He had expected her to go for the draugr, so wasn't prepared for her sword heading straight for his chest.

The blade hit home, burying itself in his ribcage. Fina twisted her blade free, watching the blood ooze down the front of his robes. He gasped, and fell backwards. His body convulsed. Once. Twice...and then he went still.

Behind her, the headless draugr collapsed. Fina caught her breath for a moment, and then continued through the gate.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra surged her dagger upwards, straight into her mark's heart. It killed him instantly, and his body slumped forwards onto her. She felt hot blood course over her fingers, and she withdrew the blade, letting him fall backwards onto the floor. She wiped the blood off on his tunic.

She looked around the room, trying to guess what he'd done to have a hit out on him. It was a game she played with every contract. She wasn't allowed to actually know the reasons for his death, so she'd make up stories based on their surroundings.

This man had been killed in his bedroom. He wasn't a rich man, but he had a sizeable library - six full shelves. Syra skimmed the titles, not really finding anything of interest. Mostly they seemed to be about the dwemer and falmer.

She did note with interest that he proudly wore Imperial armour. Syra crouched beside his body, searching through his pockets. She found a letter in one of them and pulled it open. Strictly speaking, this was against the rules. Get in, get out. Touch nothing, take nothing. Astrid had drilled it into her brain.

But Syra was young, curious.

She opened the letter with her clean hand, eyes scanning the paper.

_Toriah,_

_Thank you for your most recent letter. The information will be of great use to the Blades._

_We have gotten news the Greybeards have been training the Dragonborn. My contacts reported that they've sent her to Ustengrav, as we suspected. I will intercept her there and have her meet with me._

_We can't let the old fools get too strong of a grip on her, or she will be too difficult to manipulate._

_I will keep you updated on my progress. Please destroy this letter once you've read it._

_\- D_

This seemed important to Syra. She knew that she should put it back and pretend she hadn't seen it, and maybe it was just because it mentioned the Greybeards, but she slipped it into her pocket instead. It was a connection to Arik. Even if it was nothing, it felt like some small part of him.

Suddenly, there was the noise of footsteps on the stairs. The blood was dripping through the floorboards, and Syra guessed someone below had noticed. She edged herself out of the window, clinging to the roof.

"Father!" The voice of a little boy. The shriek of a woman. Both of them, crying.

Syra had heard enough. She jumped from the roof, landing in a crouch on the ground before she took off running into the night.

**F I N A**

* * *

She had passed through three more chambers and killed eight draugr. Fina was glad that they were dried corpses, otherwise she would have been coated in blood by now.

When she made it through the next room and down a long, winding hallway, she found herself in a massive cavern with no visible bottom. There was a dirt bridge in front of her, and she proceeded along it, sheathing her sword.

Before her lay a closed gate. Behind it, she could see another closed gate and behind that, another. Three of them, all in a row. Before them, were three stones etched with runes.

As she drew closer and stood beside the first stone, the rune came alive with a red glow. The first gate opened, but the other two remained shut.

Experimentally, she stepped away from the stone. The red faded in a matter of seconds, and the gate slid closed again. Next, she tried stepping next to the second stone. The second gate opened.

_Interesting._

Fina knew enough about Ustengrav to know that there were portions of it that could only be accessed by someone who could Shout. Standing at the first stone, Fina readied herself and started running.

After the first stone lit up, she used Whirlwind Sprint. It propelled her body towards the gates, but even using the Shout, the gates slid shut before she could pass through them. She braced herself, hitting against the bars with a thud.

"Right. Okay." Fina returned to the first stone, the solution clicking in her head. She waited until the energy for the Shout was available again. Then, she took off at a run. This time, she didn't Shout until she was passed all three stones.

This time, it propelled her through the open gates and to the other side. They slid shut behind her again and Fina breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Thank Talos." She leaned against the wall, catching her breath.

In the next chamber, Fina expected to find more draugr and was immediately suspicious when there were none. She crossed the room, careful to watch for any pressure plates or trip wires.

_Nothing._

She approached the massive door on the other side of the room. It was the biggest she had seen yet, and she had an overwhelming feeling that something ominous lay behind it.

"Well, Norfina, lets get this over with." She told herself.

Fina drew her sword and pushed open the door.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra was greeted by Astrid when she returned to the Sanctuary.

"Well met, Sister."

"Well met." Syra returned with a nod.

"All went according to plan?"

"I made my mark."

Astrid nodded, pleased, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall.

"Nazir made his famous stew. You should join him in the kitchen - the others will be back soon."

Syra didn't respond and walked around Astrid and down the stairs. Cicero sat by the pool of water, muttering to himself and tossing his head back and forth so the bells on his jester's cap chimed. She ignored him and continued across the room and down the next set of stairs into the kitchen.

"Ah, Syra, you're just in time." Nazir said, gesturing for her to sit down. Nazir always struck Syra as far too happy to be an assassin, but then she was sure that people who knew her outside the Brotherhood would say the same of her.

"Good, I'm starved." She sat across from Babette who grinned, showing her fangs.

"Hello, Sister." Babette said in her child's voice. "How was your contract?"

"Good enough." Syra nodded, stripping off her mask and setting it on the table beside her.

Nazir settled a steaming bowl of stew in front of her and she smiled her thanks. When he sat down to join them, Syra cast her eyes around the room. The others hadn't arrived yet, so she had a moment to speak candidly.

"I found something, actually." She whispered. "I wanted you to take a look at it, Nazir. Just between us."

He raised a brow, but accepted the letter from her as she handed it across. She watched his eyes move down each line of the letter. Nazir handed the letter to Babette, who also read it.

"Interesting." Babette folded the letter and handed it back to her.

"What do you make of it?" Syra asked.

Nazir scratched his chin. "Well...We had received rumours about the Dragonborn's return, but dragons don't concern us enough to warrant further investigation. However…" He looked over to Babette who nodded, understanding where he was going with his words.

"We have received word that the Blades are back in Skyrim." Babette told her conspiratorily.

"Who are the Blades?"

Nazir answered. "They're an ancient group of warriors specifically trained to fight dragons. Normally, they stay politically neutral..."

"But this time," Cut in Babette, "They've aligned themselves with the Imperials. Its most curious." She giggled.

"I see. My mark was definitely an Imperial." Syra stuffed the note back in her pocket. "Could that mean the Imperials have sided against the Greybeards?" This worried her.

Nazir shrugged. "I couldn't say for certain, but that note seems to suggest they might be."

Syra swallowed. "Will you let me know if you hear anything else about it?"

Nazir and Babette nodded, and they all returned to the meal. Babette plucked a rat from under the table and bit into it. She sucked at it as it squirmed in her fingers. Once it was drained, she tossed it's carcas into the fire. Syra didn't think she would ever get used to seeing that. Suddenly, she wasn't so hungry.

"Do you have to do that at the table?" Nazir chastised.

Babette shrugged, wiping her fangs clean with the sleeve of her dress.

**F I N A**

* * *

The room was enormous. Fina stood on top of the steps, looking down. There was a walkway down the middle of the chamber with a pool of water on either side. At the far end, she could see a burial altar which she assumed was the casket of Jurgen himself.

From her distance, she couldn't see any enemies. Fina sheathed her sword and grabbed her bow instead, keeping it before her as she slowly walked down the steps.

Suddenly, the ear-shattering noise of stones grinding against stones echoed throughout the chamber, and two massive curved pillars rose from each of the pools. She felt her heart speed up, her gut telling her that nothing good could come of this.

When nothing revealed itself, Fina forced herself to press forwards and down the walkway. Nothing was happening. Nothing jumped out at her, no spectral beings materialised before her. When she reached the casket, she looked up and could see the place where the horn should have been.

Her heart dropped.

The horn had been taken, and in its place was a note. Fina put her bow away, and grabbed at the note.

With shaking hands, she read it.

_Dragonborn -_

_I need to speak to you. Urgently._

_Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you._

_\- A friend_

Fina closed the note and sat down, leaning her back against the casket. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Who was this 'friend'? Why couldn't they have just waited here for her? Why all the secrecy?

"Well, I guess I'm just going to have to go and find out."

Her voice echoed back to her, offering no solace.


	7. Alduin's Wall

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina stopped overnight in Morthal, seeking a much needed a day of rest after her battles in Ustengrav.

When she set out for Riverwood, it was with a heavy heart which worsened steadily as the result of the poor weather. It rained for the entire day it took her to walk and she arrived at the Sleeping Giant Inn dripping water onto the well-worn wooden floor.

The innkeeper met her at the door.

"Hello, traveller. Let me take your cloak and set it by the fire to dry." The woman was blonde, with her hair tightly knotted back. Her eyes and sharp features reminded Fina of a falcon.

She surrendered her cloak and took her pack from her shoulder. Her body shook with chills from the damp cold and she ached for sleep in a warm bed.

"Can I get you some mead, friend? Warm spiced wine?"

"No, thank you. I was actually hoping that I could rent the attic room for the night."

"Well, we don't have an attic room, but if you head to the room on the left," She indicated it with a wave of her hand. "I'll be with you in a moment."

Fina opened her mouth to tell the woman that she must have made a mistake, but the look on her face made her shut her mouth.

Instead, she grabbed her pack and headed into the room on the left. She quickly stripped herself down and changed into dry clothing. She was just pulling the tunic over her head when the woman entered.

She shut the door behind her and gestured for Fina to sit down.

"I'm glad you came. I have to admit, you aren't what I was expecting."

"You left the note?"

"I did."

Fina narrowed her eyes at the woman. "Why?"

"I need to speak with you without raising the suspicions of the Greybeards."

Fina crossed her arms. "And who, exactly, are you?"

"My name is Delphine. I'm a member of the Blades. I assume you've heard of us?"

Fina nodded. She had. They were the warriors assembled to protect the Septim Emperors and to fight dragons. They had been the ones to originally defeat Alduin. Arngeir had warned her that in more recent times, the Blades had refused to work with the Greybeards. He said the Blades found their ways too old fashioned, and favoured more radical approaches to the dragons.

"And I'm just supposed to believe that?"

Delphine shrugged. "That is up to you. All I ask is that you hear me out."

Fina was silent for a moment, sizing Delphine up. Finally, she relented. "I'm listening."

"Our leader is a man named Esbern. He has been in hiding, tracking any dragon rumours and researching the ancient Blade prophecies. I found him as soon as I heard about the attack at Helgen." Delphine paused, and Fina could tell she was waiting for a reaction. Fina didn't give her one.

"We've decided that the time has come to reunite the Blades, but there are so few of us left. We need a hideout, somewhere to be sure no Thalmor or Imperial bastards can interfere." She sounded bitter, and Fina felt a bit of her resolve slip. Anyone who hated the Imperials and the Thalmor couldn't be all bad.

"Esbern has located Sky Haven Temple. Within it, is Alduin's wall. He believes that this wall holds the secret to Alduin's defeat."

"So why aren't you there?" Despite the slight change in Fina's opinion of Delphine, she maintained any icy exterior.

"Only the Dragonborn can open the entrance to the chamber containing Alduin's wall. We need you." Delphine sat back.

Fina sighed, thinking over what she'd said. "This could all be a trap. How do I know that I can trust you?"

Delphine reached within a fold of her dress, and pulled out an ancient looking horn. Fina immediately knew that it was the horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

"I will give this to you out of good will. All I ask is that you at least come with us to Alduin's wall. The information could be valuable, regardless of what you decide to do from there."

Fina accepted the horn, turning it over in her hands. She swallowed.

"Think about it - I'll take your answer in the morning. You must be tired and freezing." Delphine stood and left, closing the door behind her.

Fina leaned back in the chair, hugging the horn to her chest. She wished she could speak with her Uncle. She had no idea how to proceed. Should she trust Delphine? The story seemed convincing, and the fact she'd freely given over the horn seemed to suggest she was truthful.

Still, Arngeir's voice was in the back of her head. He had warned her against the Blades. Fina sighed, knowing that regardless of that, this opportunity was too good to pass up.

**S Y R A**

* * *

"Please...please, no!" The woman was on her knees, hands grabbing at Syra's ankles. "I have two young children! They need me. There is no one else to care for them."

Syra was shaking. This was not going as planned. The dagger was poised, ready to strike...So why was she hesitating?

It was the children. They would be orphans if she completed this contact. Syra knew all too well what that would mean for them.

"Stop talking." Syra kicked her legs free, putting distance between them.

The woman seemed to sense her hesitation. "You don't have to do this." She spoke softly. Syra raised her arm as if she might strike the woman, who immediately flinched away from her.

"I said be quiet!" She yelled at her.

The woman's eyes were wide and full of tears. At hearing Syra yell, a baby started crying in the next room.

_I can't do this_. Syra growled, and shoved her dagger into its sheath angrily. When she spoke, it was with a hard voice.

"You will get your children and you will leave Skyrim. You can never come back, do you understand?"

The woman gave a cry of relief, nodding adamantly. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much."

"Go!"

The woman stood, and Syra shoved her forward by the shoulder. In the other room, the baby was crying on the bed. A little girl stood beside it, clutching a stained and tattered rag doll by the arm. She had light blonde curls and big shining round eyes. She reminded Syra of herself.

The woman hurriedly began to pack. Syra put her hands on her hips, standing in the corner.

Suddenly, an arrow shot through the room. It hit the woman in the back of the head with a sickening crush, burying itself in her skull so the tip protruded from her left eye. She fell forwards beside the baby, staining the sheets red with blood.

Syra dropped into a crouch, fearing she was under attack. She recognised the black and red arrow immediately.

_Astrid._  She shot around in time to see the woman jump out of the window and disappear into the night. Syra swore under her breath.

The little girl was tugging on her mother's skirt. "Mama, wake up."

"Come on, sweetheart. Your Mama is just.." Syra wasn't sure if lying was the right thing to do, but the girl couldn't have been more than two - would she even understand death? "Having a rest."

She shouldered the bag the woman had been packing and then looked down on the baby. It was a little boy with inquisitive brown eyes. He stopped crying when she picked him up and wrapped him in a blanket.

Syra thanked Sithis they were in Whiterun. She walked out the front door, pulling the girl along by the hand. She crept down the side of the house and in the direction of the orphanage.

They made it in without being detected and she headed to the long room filled with beds where the children slept. It didn't take her long to find Ljorn's bed. She pressed a hand over his mouth and he awoke, staying silent until she moved it away.

"Syra?"

She nodded, pulling her mask free so he could see her face. Ljorn had been her closest friend after Arik left and he was the only one at the orphanage who knew what she had become. He'd asked her to marry him every day since they were ten, convinced even in his childhood that he was in love with her. Syra had always agreed - like it was a game - but Arik was always in the back of her mind. Ljorn was sweet, but her feelings stopped at friendship.

It was the first time she had seen him in a year. The last time, she had been wounded during a contract and Ljorn had stitched her up. Growing up in an orphanage, you soon learn how to care for yourself and the others around you.

"These children have no mother." Syra whispered, and Ljorn sat up to take the baby from her. She trusted him not to question her motives.

"Where should I say they've come from?" He asked. He'd grown handsome in the last year. He was no longer the child she remembered, although his nose was still crooked from the time Eras punched him for stealing his sweetroll.

"Say that you found them on the doorstep." Syra shrugged. Ljorn stood and took the little girls hand.

"Lets go and get you some food, how does that sound?" He whispered to her, and she bobbed her head, sucking on her thumb.

"Thank you."

"I'm only doing this because you're my future bride." He tried to joke, but there was no humour left in it. "Come and visit me soon, okay?"

Syra nodded, but they both knew she wouldn't.

"Goodbye, Ljorn." She kissed his cheek and pulled her mask back on.

Before he could speak again, she was gone.

Syra allowed the night to swallow her as she started back to Falkreath. She dared not think about how Astrid would punish her upon her return.

**F I N A**

* * *

It took three days for her and Delphine to reach Sky Haven Temple. There, they travelled through cavern after empty cavern. The only sign of life that Fina saw was the occasional spider.

"We've already cleared out the draugr." Delphine explained. Fina was glad for it - she wasn't in any mood for a battle.

When they reached the entrance to Alduin's wall, they found an old man camped there among stacks of books, scrolls, and parchment.

"Esbern!" Delphine called. He poked his head out from around the books.

"Oh! You have arrived!" He stood up and clapped his hands. Beyond him, Fina could see a raised circular platform with a strange design carved in the centre. Behind it, was a massive stone doorway, sealed and seemingly immovable.

Esbern moved towards them in a flutter of unkempt robes and ink-stained fingers. He scrutinized Fina. "She is rather small, Delphine."

Delphine ignored his comment. "Fina, Esbern. Esbern, Fina."

"Hello." Fina said, choosing to also ignore the comment.

"Apologies. It's an honour, Dragonborn." He gave her a little bow and then turned around, gesturing for her to follow. "I'm glad you're here. Come, let's get right to it."

Fina followed him to the circular platform.

"I'm afraid this is a bit gruesome, but the entrance will not open unless the Dragonborn's blood is spilt on the stone."

"I see." Fina suspected Esbern might be more than a little crazy. She looked at Delphine, who shrugged. "This better work."

She drew her dagger and ran it across the palm of her hand. She squeezed her fist shut and watched the blood drip through her fingers and onto the platform.

Almost immediately, the carving in the platform began to glow, and the stone across the doorway slid open with an echoing rumble. Esbern handed her a strip of cloth, and she tied it around her hand. Delphine grabbed a couple of torches and passed one to Fina.

Esbern gathered a stack of books in his arms, balancing them carefully.

"Is that necessary?" Delphine asked, giving him an unimpressed look.

"Of course it is!" He responded cheerfully, evidently unbothered by her attitude.

Delphine sighed and lead the way through the door. Fina gripped the torch lightly and drew her sword with her other hand. Immediately she regretted cutting her right hand rather than her left.

They wove their way through a curved walkway that was almost entirely shrouded in cobwebs. Delphine and Fina both used their swords to cut the larger ones away so that they could get through, both coughing as they inhaled the age-old dust in the air.

Eventually, the walkway turned into a room that once could have been an impressive banquet hall. Esbern squeaked excitedly and hurried forward, dumping his stack of books onto one of the filthy stone tables. Fina followed him, noticing that he was heading to the far wall. As she grew closer with the torch, she could see the intricate picture carved into it.

"Here, here." Esbern took the torch from her and shone it on the wall. "This is terribly exciting. You see, Emperor Reman II permitted the construction of this wall in the First Era. Its original purpose was to record the accumulated dragonlore and prophecy that the Akaviri Dragonguard possessed at the time, primarily as hedge against the forgetfulness of centuries, you understand."

Fina listened, wondering if he had memorized this passage from a book. She found it curious that the Greybeards had never mentioned Alduin's Wall to her. Surely they had known about it?

"Given they believed Alduin's return was inevitable, the Dragonguard believed the wall was their gift to those that came after them." He swept his hand across the intricate mural, pulling away some of the spider webs.

Delphine came up beside them, also admiring it. "I'm sure the Greybeards have told you all about this?" She asked.

Fina frowned. "No, they didn't mention the wall."

"Oh." She clucked disapprovingly. "I thought they might have sent you here, seeing as the wall would explain how to take care of Alduin." A pause. "Of course, they always have been a little more sympathetic to the dragons than we are."

Esbern had continued on, as if he hadn't heard them. "Craftsmen from temples across the Empire were called to work upon this wall. It took them six years to complete. Just look at it!" He marvelled. "Emperor Reman himself officially dedicated the wall. The Blood Seal outside was consecrated in the presence of all the Akaviri Dragonguard of Skyrim. That is why only a Dragonborn can open the entrance. Could you imagine?"

"It's beautiful." Fina murmured, running her fingers over a depiction of a dragon.

"What do you make of it, Esbern?"

"I will need more of my books." He replied, not looking up from the wall. "And time, to piece it all together."

"How much time?" Delphine crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. Esbern gave her a disapproving look.

"I daresay a month or so, if I work at it day and night."

"That long?"

"This was created in the First Era! Many of the symbols will require translation...and I do not have all of the books needed to do it."

"I suppose you had best get that horn back to the Greybeards, in the mean time." Delphine told her. "I will work to get some recruits so we can rebuild the Blades. You can't be expected to fight the dragons on your own. That is...if you will agree to help us?"

Fina looked at the wall, feeling a strange connection to it and to the rest of Sky Haven. "Yes, I'll help."

"Good." Delphine clapped her on the shoulder. "That is a relief. I don't think Esbern would be much help against a skeever, let alone a dragon."

At that, Fina laughed and as she did, some of the anxiety and sadness in her eased. Perhaps the situation was not as hopeless as she thought.


	8. Markarth Green

**S Y R A**

* * *

"This will not happen again, do you understand me, Syra?"

Syra sat straight in her chair, glaring at the floor as Astrid paced before her. The stone floor suddenly seemed fascinating. As Astrid walked, she unknowingly kicked a pebble back and forth until it became lodged in a crack and stuck there. Syra felt a sense of loss as it didn't move again and her distraction was lost.

"Look at me!" Astrid demanded. When Syra still didn't move, the older woman leaned forward and rested a hand on either of the armrests of the chair. Her face was close enough that Syra could smell the wine on her breath as it ghosted across her cheek.

Syra grudgingly looked up and met her scathing eyes.

"Should I have left you back in the care of your adoptive family?" Her words were spoken in a forced whisper and Syra flinched despite her best attempts to remain stoic.

"No." She swallowed hard, trying to maintain the eye contact.

Astrid sighed and stood straight, pushing away from the chair. "We have a reputation to keep in tact. It is fragile enough as it is without reports of us leaving our marks alive and instead helping them flee from the province." The last words were spoken from gritted teeth. "If this happens again, Syra, we will have to cut you loose. You know what that would mean."

Syra nodded.

"Say it."

"I understand, Astrid."

"Good. Then go." Astrid waved her away and sat at the chair behind the desk where she started to pour over a thick stack of papers.

Syra stood and left her room, feeling a cold rage set in. Next time, she would kill first and not allow the mark to even open their mouth. She needed to prove to Astrid that she was an asset. That she had done the right thing by taking in Syra.

She could still feel her adoptive father's hands on her neck, her stomach, her thighs. She could still feel his tongue -

_Stop it_. She cut off the thought before it could fully form, pulling herself away from the memory.  _You will not fail again._

Veezara caught her in the training room. He had been arguing with Cicero about the fool having been in his room, but he gave up once she entered. It was impossible to speak logically with Cicero anyway; his voice alone instilled the thirst in her to strangle him.

"Syra!" She was worried Veezara would mention her failed contract, but instead he grinned, his pointed teeth showing. "Would you spar with me?"

Perhaps it would calm her some. She nodded and he bounced on his feet lightly. "Excellent."

They headed over to the area filled with straw bales and practise dummies. "Daggers or fists?" He asked.

She gave it a moments thoughts. "Fists."

They circled each other, Veezara in a crouch and Syra moving in the tall lithe manner of a sabre cat. It was he who struck first, darting forward with a punch aimed at her ribs. Syra twisted away, sidestepping around him and using the momentum to swing her leg up and hit him in the centre of his back.

He made an oof noise, and then spun on her, catching her in the rebound of her kick and punching her in the cheek. It stung, causing the familiar jolt of pain to weave down her neck. Syra smiled and easily blocked his next hit.

She punched back three times, rapid fire, at his spined cheeks, and when he blocked them all, she instead used her lack of height to her advantage and chopped just below his knee with a straight hand.

His knee gave way, and Syra punched him in the face. He fell to both knees, and she lunged at him, sending them both sprawling backwards with her on top. She straddled his chest, punching him once, twice, three times before he caught hold of her wrists.

Veezara was stronger than her, so once his head cleared from her hits, he punched her in the mouth and then easily rolled so she was below him. He shot upwards and a few steps back, wiping blood from his cheek and laughing.

Syra grinned, and was sure it was a bloody one as she could taste it like liquid metal between her teeth. She picked herself up, spitting out a mouthful of thick red saliva.

She wasn't aware Cicero had been watching until he made a disgusted noise at her. "The little girl makes a disgusting mess. Cicero will not clean it. He will not."

She ignored him, and returned her attention back to the Argonian who raced towards her again. He made to aim for her gut, but then changed his position and hit her twice in the chest. Winded, she stumbled backwards and tripped over Cicero, who had been kneeling to examine her spittle on the ground. Syra fell flat on her back, head cracking painfully against the stones.

She swore violently at him, and in a moment of blind, sadistic anger she turned on him, pinning his arms down with her knees and punching him over and over in the face.

"The little girl is weak." Cicero laughed at her as his face filled with blood. The noise was maniacal and out of place. It enraged her. She punched him harder until he was coughing on his own blood, sputtering it up in her face.

"I." Hit. "Am." Hit. "Not." Hit. "Weak!" Hit, hit, hit.

"Syra!" Veezara was by her side, hand on her shoulder.

But she couldn't stop, not now.

She pressed her hands around his neck, squeezing. Cicero had done nothing but annoy and infuriate them all since his arrival. She didn't understand his purpose in this place. Who would care if his life slipped away, right here, between her fingers?

All she could see was a dark tunnel; at the end was Cicero's grotesquely smiling face. Vaguely, she found herself wondering if Arik would recognise her now. Bloody, bruised, wearing the garb of an assassin, and strangling the life from a man simply because he annoyed her.

Veezara grabbed her roughly by the arms, pulling them sharply behind her back and heaving her to her feet.

"Enough! You will kill him!" He said angrily. Syra shook herself free from him, and wiped some blood from where it dripped down her chin.

On the floor, Cicero continued to sputter and giggle. Babette stood at the door from the kitchen, a book held in her arms.

"What's going on?" She asked, looking from Syra to Cicero and back.

Veezara shook his head, throwing up his hands in confusion. Syra moved past them all and Babette moved from the doorway to let her through. Her entire body was tense and trembling.

_How could I lose control like that?_

Back in her room, Syra leaned over the basin of water watching her own reflection. Her lip was split, and there was a cut on her cheek, but these seemed insignificant considering the current state of her face. It was almost entirely covered in little flecks of red - Cicero's blood. She cursed and splashed water on her face, scrubbing at it until the water was pink and her hands were clean, save for the bruises and cuts her punches had earned across her knuckles.

She collapsed onto her bed, rubbing at her eyes. Syra was beginning to feel like her life had been a mistake from the moment she was born. Her parents died when she was six, and so she was sent to the orphanage in Whiterun. From there, all she had dreamed of was being adopted by a loving family.

Instead, she had been adopted by a man and his young wife. The woman hardly ever spoke a word to her, she was always so quiet and out of the way, cleaning, cooking, tending the garden. It wasn't until a week with them that Syra had understood why.

The man, whose first wife had died some years earlier, liked to drink. When he drank, he liked to hit women. And when he hit women? He also decided he liked to rape them. The only reason that he had adopted Syra was because his wife was with child and would be unable to help him with the harvest. He told her everyday that he would toss her out as soon as she was no longer needed and leave her to the wolves.

Everyday she had been unsure if he would do it, unsure if that would be the day he killed her. Every time her hit her or touched her, part of her wished he would just get it over with. She had been only 11 when he adopted her, only a few months after Arik left for High Hrothgar. A year and a half later, Syra had been desperate, and performed The Black Sacrament. Astrid killed her adoptive father and had taken pity on Syra, taking her back to the Sanctuary and training her as one of them.

All Syra had wanted from then on had been to stop anyone who was hurting innocents. Truthfully, she had taken to assassination naturally and even - though she hated to admit it - had begun to enjoy the job. She'd been with the Brotherhood for a full year now, and was a better assassin than she had any right to be.

Thinking again of what Arik would think of her, she pulled out the letter she found on Toriah's body. She read the words - as she had a dozen times now - and sighed.

"Cicero is still laughing, so I guess that means you didn't kill him." Babette said from the doorway.

Syra jumped, not having heard the vampire child walk up. She relaxed when she saw who it was, but didn't know how to respond.

"How hard was Astrid on you?" Babette sat down on the edge of Syra's bed, and set the book down beside her.

"Hard enough." Syra cast a glance at the book.  _Vampire Lore._

"Written by a friend of yours?" She gestured to it.

Babette smiled devilishly. "I use it to keep letters safe. Cicero keeps snooping in our rooms, so I have to hide them somewhere seeing as I can't just kill him." She flipped it open, and Syra could see that there were several letters folded inside. "I tried locking the door, but it turns out he is a genius with a lockpick."

"Good idea." Syra set the letter she'd been reading aside and propped herself up on an elbow. "Have anything interesting in there?"

"As a matter of fact…" Babette leafed through the letters and then handed one of them to Syra. "Take a look at this, its just come in from one of my contacts."

_B,_

_Seems like you were right - I did some digging into Imperial business and they appear to have sent several of their men to join something called the Blades. They've been dispatched to somewhere called Sky Haven Temple, but I can't find any record of such a place._

_Their contact within the Blades is a woman named Delphine. All I could find on her is that she bought the Sleeping Giant in Riverwood a few months back. Could be a front for whatever she's up to._

_We also have eyes on the so-called Dragonborn. She is the niece of Ulfric Stormcloak, so for all we know it is a lie the Stormcloaks invented to get an edge in the war. The last information we received told us she was seen leaving Morthal and heading south, alone._

_I hope this information is of use. I will write if I hear more._

_\- Lorn_

Syra immediately began to worry for Arik. This woman was siding with the Imperials and from the first letter, seemed to have no love for the Greybeards. Still, it seemed that besides this woman - Delphine's - dislike for the Greybeards, she didn't have any plans to harm them. It seemed like they were just trying to use the Dragonborn as their pawn, which was truly none of her concern. The Brotherhood didn't choose sides, it just followed the gold.

"Does that mean anything to you?" Babette asked, accepting the letter back and folding it into the book.

"Not yet, but will you keep me updated? Specifically with any news regarding the Greybeards."

"Certainly." The un-child grinned and stood up, collecting the book in her arms. "I don't suppose you would tell me why you want to know?"

Syra sighed. "You know I was raised in an orphanage?" When Babette nodded, she continued. "My closest friend there was taken on as an apprentice with the Greybeards."

"I understand." She quirked her head. "I will let you know what I hear." She turned towards the door. "But a word of caution, Syra. It is best to focus on the present, and not spend energy worrying about the past."

Syra swallowed and nodded, knowing she was likely correct. Arik hadn't responded to a single one of her letters, even though he promised he would. For all she knew, he didn't even remember she existed.

"Take it from someone who has an awful lot of past." Babette giggled and then left Syra alone.

**F I N A**

* * *

By this point, Fina wasn't sure how much longer she could go without confiding in someone. She needed a neutral party, neither Blade nor Greybeard. Seeing as Markarth was less than a day from Sky Haven, Fina decided she was due a visit to her cousin Mejel. The two had been close growing up, as they were the same age and their mothers were sisters. They had trained together and fought together all their lives.

A few years ago, Mejel had moved with his parents to Markarth. His official title in the city was Captain of the Guard, but his real duty was to maintain a Stormcloak presence in The Reach. She hadn't seen him since and only had received a few letters.

She stayed with the Blades long enough to rest and resupply before departing. Delphine asked she come back in a month, if not sooner, to find out what Esbern had translated from the wall. With one last look at the beautiful work of art, she left.

Fina was in good spirits as she left Sky Haven. It took her shorter than she'd thought to reach Markarth, and she headed immediately for Understone Keep and the guards barracks.

Despite Markarth being the dangerous city it was, Fina was glad for its overshadowing stone walls and foreign dwemer architecture. The people watched her grimly as she proceded towards the palace. A miner outside of the Silver-Blood Inn turned his head to spit on the ground as she walked past him. Fina ignored the subtle insult, focussed only on reaching her target.

Fina felt immediately dwarfed as she entered the keep with its high, cavernous ceilings and expansive rooms. The guards gave each other a look as she entered, but otherwise did not move to stop her or speak with her.

Once she was through the first chamber, she caught sight of something that immediately knocked the breath out of her. She froze in place, staring with disbelieving eyes.

"Uncle?"

Ulfric turned as she spoke, searching for the source of the voice. When his eyes found her, his entire face lit up. He was walking with one of his advisors, headed towards the throne room.

" _Fina_?" He took four broad steps towards her and encompassed her in a crushing embrace. Fina hugged him back with equal fervor. When they pulled apart, Ulfric held her back at arm's length, inspecting her.

"You look well, niece." He commented, chuckling and pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks.

"As do you!" Fina patted his stomach. "They've kept you well fed in my absence."

Ulfric batted her hand away, giving her a light shake. "What brings you to Markarth?"

"I was nearby and stopped to see Mejel. Have you been here long?"

"I've only just arrived myself. We are on our way to an audience with the Jarl." Ulfric scratched at his beard.

"There is much I wish to tell you, Uncle." Fina said, smile slipping from her face as reality set back in.

Ulfric's advisor tapped him on the shoulder, reminding him of their purpose.

"There is much I wish to hear! I must speak with the Jarl now, but wait for me." He wrapped her in a hug again. "Ah, but I have missed you my Norfina."

"Am I late for the family reunion?"

Fina recognised the voice immediately. "Mejel!"

Her cousin stepped forwards, bowing to Ulfric. "Jarl Ulfric." He said respectfully. Ulfric waved away the gesture and instead clasped wrists with him.

Mejel's burgundy hair - a trait he and Fina had both gained from their mothers - had grown long since Fina had last seen him, and he had the startings of a scruffy beard on his chin. He was so grown now, but then, Fina supposed, so was she.

"I must go. I will see you both soon." Ulfric excused himself, and he and his advisor started back towards the throne room.

Fina launched herself at Mejel, who caught her and spun her in a circle before settling her back on her feet.

"I hate to say it, Mejel, but you seem to have a fungus on your face." She scratched at his thin beard and he lifted his chin away from her reach, chuckling.

"You flatter me, as always, cousin." Mejel took her hand. "It has been too long."

"Too long." Fina agreed, feeling a wave of emotion overtake her.

"Come to my room, I have a fine bottle of spiced wine waiting for an occasion such as this." He tugged on her hand, pulling her along towards the guards barracks.

"That is an offer I can't refuse." Fina appraised him as they walked. "Markarth green suits you."

"Do you think?" He looked down at himself. "It reminds me of the time you drank five bottles of ale in the same hour and then promptly emptied your stomach all over Ulfric's snow bear rug. The shades are very similar."

"A night I'd rather forget." Fina felt slightly ill at the memory, but found herself laughing along with him anyway. It felt wonderful to laugh.

Mejel lead her through the guard's barracks. It was strange for her to see how the guards all snapped to attention as he passed, standing straight and respectful until their captain passed by. Mejel was a fine warrior and a fair leader - Fina had no doubt that he truly did have his men's respect.

In his room, Mejel pulled a bottle of wine from a chest by the foot of his bed and settled it among the coals on his hearth. He sat down at the table and Fina sat across from him, setting down her pack and relieving herself from her armour and boots. She stretched out, enjoying the warmth of the fire on her toes.

"You've done well for yourself." She remarked, taking in the room. It was richly dressed and she wasn't blind to the many coin purses scattered around.

"I have." He agreed, tossing an apple to her. She caught it easily and took a bite.

"But so have you, Dragonborn."

Fina found it unsettling to hear that name for her from his lips. She shrugged and stared at the apple for a long moment. "It is both a blessing and a curse, it seems."

"More blessing or more curse?"

"I'll let you know once I find out." Fina smirked at him. It was so familiar to sit here, bantering before the fire. The two were close to siblings, each of them being only children and the same age. Many times they had been mistaken for twins, as they looked so similar.

"What has brought you to Markarth? Last I heard, you were in training with the Greybeards."

"Aye, I was." Fina sighed and sat up straighter, throwing her apple core into the fire. Mejel stood to fetch the wine from the hearth as she continued. "Although that was a feat in itself. I was attacked by a frost troll on the Steps. Bastard took a good chomp at my arm and I barely made it there."

Her mind replayed the scene in her head, and she barely concealed a flinch. "The Greybeards are a strange bunch, but I did learn to Shout, among other things. I was there for three, maybe four weeks. Then they sent me on my final test which was the collect the horn of Jurgen Windcaller. You've heard of him?"

Mejel nodded and placed a cup of steaming wine before her. Fina took a sip, feeling its comforting warmth roll down her throat and into her belly.

"They sent me to his tomb, just north of Morthal. The place was crawling with draugr." She shivered at the thought of them.

"Filthy vermin." Mejel interjected, his expression grim.

"When I finally reached his tomb, where his horn was meant to be...and it was gone. Someone had beat me there."

"No!" He leaned towards her, completely enthralled by her story.

Fina smiled at his enthusiasm. "They left me a note, asking me to meet them in Riverwood. It was signed from 'a friend'. So, I decide to go to Riverwood and meet this woman - Delphine - who tells me she is the one who left the note. She said that she was from the Blades and they wanted my help." She took a swallow of wine.

"I asked her why she went to such trouble, and she said it was to avoid raising the Greybeards suspicions."

"Don't the Blades and Greybeards work together, traditionally?"

"Traditionally, yes. But in more recent years, they've been at odds. The Blades have more modern opinions towards the dragon problem. They believe the Greybeards could be sympathetic to Alduin's cause. That they are weak and old fashioned."

"I can see that." Mejel nodded. "What did they want your help with?"

"They discovered the location of Alduin's wall - near Markarth. Alduin's wall is a giant depiction of the history of dragons, including Alduin's return. The Blades believe that the wall holds the information that will lead to his defeat. They couldn't access the wall without the blood of the Dragonborn." Fina gestured to herself.

Mejel was silent, his brow furrowed as he worked through everything she had told him. "You've been busy, cousin."

Fina laughed at his conclusion. "Yes, I have. It has been quite a journey. I needed to see a familiar face."

"It is good to see you, Fina." He said it seriously, and Fina watched his face again. Without his childish grin, she could see the lines that stress and worry had marked on his face. She reached across the table and touched his hand.

"Windhelm wasn't the same without you."

Mejel nodded, and topped off her cup. "Of course it wasn't. I was the only decent thing in the place."

They both laughed and he squeezed her hand. He opened his mouth to speak again, but there came a knock at the door.

"Captain?"

"Enter." Mejel sat taller and Fina covered a smirk with her hand.

A nervous looking guard cracked the door open and took a step inside.

"There's been a disturbance in the market, sir. A stabbing."

"Forsworn?"

"We're not certain, Captain."

Mejel nodded sharply and stood up, pulling his sword from its rack and tying it around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Fina. I've got to see to this, promise you will break fast with me tomorrow?" Fina nodded.

"Of course, Mejel. You can't get rid of me that easily."

He grinned at her, face young again even if it was for only a fleeting moment. "Ulfric will nearly be finished now, if you want to wait for him outside the throne room."

"Thank you." Fina watched him slip out the door and heard his retreating footsteps down the hall. As silence was upon her, she found her thoughts stray to Arik and wished that her current silence was filled with his reassuring presence.

After awhile, she sighed and finished her wine, deciding that it was time to find Ulfric.


	9. Lady Death

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina found Ulfric as he was leaving the throne room, the same advisor in tow. He waved for her to join them, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

"Where has Mejel ran off to?" He asked, checking around to see if he had hung back.

"Official guard business." Fina grinned, and her Uncle laughed. "It is strange to see him grown and captain of the guard, no less!"

Fina nodded. "He has done well."

When they reached Ulfric's guest chambers, the advisor excused himself to head to the Inn for a meal. Inside, Fina was alone with her Uncle and she could not have been more relieved. She sat at the table across from him, and could see that a meal had been prepared and laid out.

"So," He began, ripping a chunk of bread from the loaf and chewing it. "Tell me everything. How are the Greybeards?"

"They are well. Grey, bearded, old. Everything they should be." Fina poked at a roasted potato on her plate, trying to decide if she wanted to eat or not. Ulfric chuckled.

"Things have been...interesting." She sighed and gave up on the food, pushing her plate back. She launched into her tale, starting with her climb of the Steps, the frost troll, her hallucination, her training. Fina carefully excluded any mentions of Arik from her story, not wanting to breach that topic quite yet.

Ulfric listened patiently, only stopping her a few times to ask questions. When she told him about the note she found in place of Jurgen Windcaller's horn, he leaned forward, tense. His food was long forgotten.

"And it was the Blades?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I thought them finished!"

"There are only two of them left, Esbern and Delphine."

Ulfric scratched his beard, leaning back and looking as though he were trying to remember something. Finally he shook his head. "The names are unfamiliar to me, and I have not heard of Alduin's Wall before now."

"The Blades and the Greybeards seem to have entirely different takes on the dragons rising. The Greybeards favour the old ways. Using your Voice only for the glory of the Divines, and nothing more. The Blades are different. They are more modern, but also have such anger in them. The Greybeards warned me of their anger. They think them reckless." Fina frowned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"The Greybeards are wise." Ulfric sighed. "But anger can be a powerful tool, if wielded correctly. Times are changing, Fina. Perhaps some of the old ways need to be left behind."

"Perhaps."

"I will trust your instincts in this, niece. But know that perhaps the Greybeards are not all they seem - it appears that they have kept much from you. Much that would help the whole of Tamriel to prosper."

"I feel as though I'm being torn in half." She huffed.

"Such is the life of a leader, Norfina." He laughed easily and reached across the table to take her hand. "My best advice would be to lean towards the Blades. Allegiance with them would be beneficial not just against dragons, but also against the Imperials. The Greybeards have no army."

Fina nodded her agreement, but inside she didn't feel any less conflicted. She wondered that if she had never met Arik, would her opinion of the Greybeards still be so high?

"In fact, if it suits you - send one of Mejel's guards to Delphine with a message. Tell her to write me should she seek the possibility of an alliance. I would be happy to receive her in Windhelm."

"That is a good idea." Fina couldn't help but smile at her Uncle. Perhaps this will be good. She thought. The Dragonborn and the Blades? This could tip the scale in my Uncle's direction.

"How goes the war, Uncle?"

Ulfric jumped right into the thick of it, relaying back to her victories and losses. They stayed up until the small hours, talking about everything from Fina's childhood up to wondering if Mejel would soon take a wife. They both agreed that he would make a fine husband.

When they lapsed into silence, Ulfric fell asleep in the chair, snoring loudly as he slouched. Fina smiled fondly at him, and stood to take his fur cloak and drape it over him.

She kissed his forehead, brushing some silver-blonde hair from his forehead. "Sleep well, Uncle."

**S Y R A**

* * *

No one spoke of the wounds that Cicero wore so blatantly across his endlessly smiling face. None of them held much esteem for the Keeper and, truth be told, she imagined many of them had secretly wanted him dead. Had it not been for his seniority and protection of the Night Mother, he very well might be.

Two weeks passed, and even though Syra had made peace with Astrid, the Speaker had not given her another contract.

On the night that marked the second week, Syra had a strange dream.

She dreamt that she was lost in the woods. Fog hung low through the trees, and the sun had vanished from the sky. Syra wandered through, not so much frightened as curious about her surroundings. Her golden hair cascaded freely down her back, and she wore a humble but beautiful white woolen gown.

She could hear a distant voice, calling her name. As she made her way towards the voice, she could see the outline of a giant black throne. The closer she got, the closer together the trees grew, until the place was thick with thorn bushes. As she pushed her way through, the thorns snagged on her dress and made small cuts on her face and neck, drawing blood.

None of this seemed important, as she drew closer her sense of urgency to reach the throne increased. Without warning, she broke free of the thorns into a circular clearing.

The throne sat in the middle, and now that she was close she could see the entire thing was woven from thorn branches. Sitting on the throne, was the most beautiful woman Syra had ever seen.

She was Dunmer, with skin the colour of a stormy sky and deep red eyes like pools of blood. The woman wore a dress of elegant black fabric with a long train spilling down the steps before the throne. Her hair was waist length, and the colour of purest snow, braided in such intricacy that it was a work of art in itself.

She lounged on the throne, stroking her braid absently. When Syra arrived, a graceful smile brightened her face and she stood, making her way down the steps.

"Syra," Her voice was older than she appeared. No lines or wrinkles marred her face, but there was a wisdom to her eyes that made Syra feel as though she were ancient. "You have finally arrived."

"Where am I?" Syra's brain told her she should back away from the woman, but her instincts told her that she was safe.

"In a dream, my sweet." The woman reached out, long fingers carefully wiping a bead of blood from Syra's cheek.

"Who are you?" Syra nearly swooned at the touch, something about the woman was so intoxicating that all she could think of was being closer to her.

"I am the Blood Flower, Lady Death, Bride of Sithis...But you know me by a different name." She walked slowly around Syra as she spoke, as if inspecting her.

Syra swallowed. "Then that would make you...the Night Mother?"

"Yes." The word was whispered into Syra's ear, and she shivered, not having known that the woman had gotten so close. She felt soft fingers on her shoulders, and then the Night Mother moved Syra's hair, brushing it over her shoulder and exposing her back.

Syra shivered, but the touches were not unpleasant. The Night Mother pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and then continued her inspection until she stood before her again.

"Such beauty." The Night Mother sighed contentedly. "You are far too exquisite a treasure to hide away. I would have you fight bare, if you did not need the anonymity of your shroud."

Syra felt herself blush at the compliment but was embarrassed by the idea of fighting naked. "Why have you brought me here?"

"You came to me, did you not?" The Night Mother lifted her skirts and walked back to her throne, settling herself before her eyes turned inquisitively back to Syra.

"I…" She wasn't sure how to respond. She had been the one to find the Night Mother in this forest, that much was true.

The woman smiled knowingly at her, and gestured for Syra to approach her. "Come, sit with me."

Syra moved forwards without hesitation, coming to sit on the step at the Night Mother's feet. She looked up, and the Mother stroked her cheek, brushing Syra's hair from her face.

"I have a job for you, Syra."

She found herself leaning into the Night Mother's touch, unable to draw her eyes away. "Why me?"

"You are my Listener, little one." She responded as if it were obvious. "And I would have you Listen."

Syra nodded, feeling pride swell in her chest. She was the Listener, she was chosen by the Night Mother. She was special.

"I have listened to my children's prayers, and from them have selected a Mark." The Night Mother dragged her nails lightly through Syra's hair, causing a chill to run down her spine.

"You will go to Riften, and there you will find a woman called Florine. She has a room at the local inn. Find her, and she will give you your next contract."

"Yes, Lady Death."

"I have every faith in you." The Night Mother's fingers left her hair, and Syra nearly whimpered at the loss of contact.

"Now," She leaned in, taking Syra's chin and tilting it up. The Night Mother pressed her lips against Syra's in a soft kiss. "Wake up."

Syra jolted up in bed, finding herself back in her room. She panted, pressing a hand over her eyes.

_A dream, Syra. It was just a dream. I could not be the Listener. Not me._  She told herself over and over. "It was just a dream."

"Nightmare?"

Syra's eyes flew open, and she looked towards her door. Nazir stood there, arms crossed against his chest.

She nodded, swallowing back her fear. "Is it late?"

"Midday." He confirmed, grinning at her. "You look rather rough, Sister."

"I feel it." Syra stretched, her joints popping and groaning in protest. She had overdone it in practise with Veezara the day before and worked herself to exhaustion.

"I will cook you something." He nodded decidedly. Syra had to smile at him. Nazir had appointed himself the official cook, and she suspected that perhaps if he had not joined the Brotherhood, he would have had a job as a chef in a noble household. It was a running joke among the others that if the Brotherhood ever were entirely penniless, they could hire Nazir out as a personal chef to turn a profit.

"But first, Astrid wants to see you." Nazir raised his eyebrows, turning to go. "I hope that you haven't given her reason for anger."

Despite Syra's fears, Astrid seemed to be in high spirits.

"Ah, there you are." She said as Syra entered. "I have a contract for you."

It had been awhile, and the prospect cheered her. She was itching for a job.

Astrid handed her a piece of paper. "Think you could handle this one?"

Syra's eyes widened as she read it, and her heart hammered in her ears.

_Florine Ingun_

_The Bee and Barb Inn, Riften_

_One mark, 500 gold_

"Is there a problem, Sister?"

"No…" Syra cleared her throat, composing herself. "Not at all. Thank you."

She turned and left the room, the paper clutched tightly in her hand. _It was just a dream._  She told herself firmly again. _A dream._

**F I N A**

* * *

In the morning, Fina met with Mejel. He was happy to supply her with a guard to travel to Sky Haven Temple with the message. It wasn't very far away, and so this made sense.

Fina penned a quick letter for Delphine, and explained to the guard where to go. He left at once, and Fina felt relieved. She had been trapped between two difficult decisions - now that she had made progress towards one side, she felt much less helpless than she had before coming to Markarth.

She gave a reluctant goodbye to both Ulfric and Mejel, promising them both that she would keep in touch as often as she could.

When she set out for High Hrothgar, she was brimming with a sense of purpose. This time, the Steps did not cause her any problems, besides the exhaustion.

Even so, when the towers began to appear on the horizon, she also felt a sense of dread. She had done what the Greybeards asked of her, but part of her almost felt that she had betrayed them. It was a small part, and she was able to suppress it when her thoughts of Arik resurfaced.

She wondered how things would be between them. Would he be cut off from her? Would he even want to see her?

"Ah, Fina!" Arngeir shook her hand warmly as she arrived, gesturing for Borri to go and make some tea. "You have returned at last. Have you completed the final test?"

Fina dropped her pack to the ground, and then knelt to dig through it. When she pulled out the horn, Arngeir could barely control his excitement.

"Well done! Well done!"

She followed him into the kitchen, where he settled her at the table with tea and a bowl of soup.

"Once you are ready, we will perform the ceremony."

"Ceremony?"

"Yes, we will officially swear you in as Dragonborn. All of Skyrim will hear it and know it to be true."

Fina swallowed nervously and finished the rest of the soup. "What is required of me?"

"No more than your presence."

She nodded, focusing on her tea. Fina was not sure whether or not to mention the Blades to Arngeir. She had a feeling it would anger him, and what difference did it truly make? No, she decided. She would not tell them for now, not until she was more sure of the path she would take.

Later, the Elders joined in the main hall. Fina stood in their midst, nervous. They raised their hands to the sky and all at once, began to chant in the Dragon tongue. Although it sounded foreign, Fina found that she understood every word.

" _Long has the Storm Crown Languished with no worthy brow to sit upon._

_By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of old._

_You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North. Hearken to it_."

Their Voices were so loud that Fina covered her ears, and the entire mountain shook around them. Dust and crumbling bits of stone gave way, bouncing down the walls and ceiling and clouding the room as if it were filled with fog.

When it stopped, she almost felt as if her whole body was still vibrating.

"It is done. We place our trust in you, Dovahkiin. Tamriel's future lies in your hands."

She smiled at Arngeir, but felt a fresh wave of guilt churn in her gut.

"We would have you meet with our leader tomorrow." He told her.

Fina started. "Your leader? What leader?"

"Paarthurnax. He lives alone at the very top of the mountain. The Throat of the World. He would like to speak with you."

"Of course." Fina was puzzled, wondering why they had not mentioned this to her previously. "I would be honoured."

He patted her arm. "Sleep well."

"You also."

Arngeir smiled and turned to follow the other Elders out of the room.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik had told himself that when Fina returned, he would stay away. If he didn't put himself in a situation where he could be tempted, then there would be no temptation and therefore no room for weakness. It would be best for both of them.

In the weeks she had been gone, he had utterly thrown himself into his meditation and learning. Arngeir was pleased with his progress, and had even gone as far as to tell Arik he was proud of him. Such words had never been spoken to Arik before, and they had nearly moved him to tears.

Still, there was an emptiness in his chest that no amount of meditation or praise could fill. It was red and raw like an open wound that his body refused to heal.

When he heard Fina had returned, he made sure to stay in his room. He only came out when they began the ceremony, standing back in the shadows and out of sight. He was not yet fully trained, and therefore his Voice was not strong enough to participate.

As the others left for bed, Arik turned to go as well. However, as Fina drew closer, she had spotted him.

"Arik!" She called. He looked at her, rough from the roads, hair a fiery tangle, and eyes full of hope. The eager expression on her face killed him, and he smiled at her sadly.

Before she could say another word, he left the hall and stepped into his room.

That night, she came to him. He awoke to someone entering his room and she stood in his doorway, wearing nothing but her tunic. Arik stared at the curve of her thighs as she closed the door behind her and walked towards him. She slid beneath the furs, curling her body against his.

Arik was too shocked to protest, and he didn't even want to as her lips pressed against his. He kissed her back, snaking an arm around her and holding her tightly to him.

_So much for staying away._

"Arik…" She breathed against his neck, teeth biting down gently on his ear. He felt himself harden almost instantly, shivering as she kissed her way down his neck. Arik tugged gently at her hair, pulling her lips to his again and he took them hungrily. Fina whimpered in the back of her throat.

They both sat up, and Arik made quick work of removing his sleeping shift and then Fina's tunic. They sat before each other, completely naked, and he marvelled at the sight. Her breasts bobbed with each breath she took, round and smooth and perfect to his eyes.

When she kissed him again, the feeling of her seeped through him until he was ringing with it. He wasted no time, hoisting her up and over his lap. She straddled him, reaching between their bodies to wrap her fingers around his manhood.

He gasped against her mouth, never having felt the touch of another on that region of his body - especially not like this. She kissed him fiercely to keep him silent, and then did something he hadn't truly been expecting.

Fina guided him with her hand, lowering herself so that he was up to the hilt inside of her. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had never been with a woman and feared he wouldn't know what to do, but once he was within her his body moved on its own.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, moving herself up and down. Arik grabbed her hips, helping her keep up the rhythm she had started until they were both out of breath and panting. She whispered his name over and over again, into his mouth, his neck, his ear.

The feeling of her breasts against his chest only added to his arousal, and it wasn't long before he had to muffle his cries in her shoulder, as his seed spilled within her. She kept her pace for a few more strokes, until his entire body was trembling so much that she stopped.

Then, there came a knock at the door. Arik felt his stomach sink, staring in fear at the door, unsure of what to do.

When the knock came again, louder this time, Arik awoke. He was alone in the room. There was no Fina. He was not naked. He had, however, had his hand up his sleeping shift, and his fingers were coated in the evidence of his dream.

He had never felt shame like this before. As the knock came a third time, he hastily reached for the corner of his blanket and wiped his hand clean. He stood, shaking, and went to open the door a crack.

Arngeir stood in the hall, his eyebrows raised. Arik hoped he couldn't see the guilt on his face.

"You have overslept." The Elder told him. "The Dovahkiin has just left to speak with Paarthurnax. I expect you dressed and in the temple in the next ten minutes."

Arik nodded his understanding, and the old man left. He closed the door again, resting his forehead against the coolness of it and steadying his breathing. He felt so sick that he wanted to cry. But, Divines, it had felt so good. More than good.

_I am cursed._  Arik stripped off his shift, pretending he didn't notice the damp patch he'd left in its folds.  _Absolutely cursed._


	10. The Wooden Horse

**F I N A**

* * *

The air was bitter cold as Fina set out to The Throat of the World, despite the sun shining brightly in the cloudless sky. Something about it ominously reminded her of the day Alduin attacked Helgen. She found herself wondering if he had known her then.

Fina found solace in the sound of snow crunching beneath her boots as she trudged upwards, finding it lulled her mind to the same state as the meditation the Greybeards had taught her. It cleared her head and shook the nervous jitters from her body.

It didn't take as long as she had thought to make the climb and before she knew it, Fina could see the arch of a word wall. It looked exactly like the drawing that Arngeir had showed her. As she moved closer, there was a great shriek in the sky - a dragon.

_Here of all places?_

She pulled out her bow, and readied an arrow as the dragon circled overhead. It came to land, the ground shaking around them. Fina withdrew, shooting the arrow at the dragons head. He was old and weathered with grey-green scales and chipped fangs.

The dragon - much to her dismay - caught the arrow easily in his jaws and snapped it in half, spitting the broken bits of wood away. Fina readied another arrow.

"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax." His great voice echoed back from the mountain peaks around them and Fina felt cold all over.

_This is Paarthurnax? A dragon?_  She hesitated, lowering her bow slightly. Paarthurnax looked at her disarmingly - or what she thought looked disarming - and she relented and took a couple of steps towards him.

"Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah?"

"You...You're the leader of the Greybeards?" Fina heard herself stutter, finding it incredibly intimidating to be standing in conversation with a dragon.

"They see me as their leader. Old and wise. It's true I am old…" He paused, and she suspected that he had not spoken out loud for quite some time. "Tell me, why do you come here? Why do you disturb my meditation?"

"I am the Dragonborn. Arngeir sent me to speak with you - to ask for your help." Fina reattached her bow to her back and stood up a little taller. Surely if he meant to kill her, he would have done so by now.

"There are formalities that must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov."

She frowned, and opened her mouth to speak but he continued, giving her a sharp look.

"By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um, feel it in your bones! Match it if you are truly Dovahkiin!"

He turned his great head towards the word wall and let out a Shout. With it came fire and Fina flinched away, covering her face with her arm. The heat was intense, even from where she stood. Once the fire had dissipated, a word continued to burn brightly on the wall.

"The Word calls you, go to it."

Fina walked towards the wall, and just like she had done with the words of Unrelenting Force, she pressed her hand against it. Just as before, she felt as if something unlocked in her head and felt the heat of it swirl around her, stirring her hair and cloak.

She backed up, mirroring his actions and facing the wall. Mustering the strength within her, she let forth the Shout.

" _YOL TOOR SHUL_!" As she used it, fire came forth from her being, as if her very body heat had maximised and was fleeing her flesh. When it was done, she stood bent at the waist, panting, shocked by the power of her Voice. Did she really have the power to call forth fire at her will?

"Ah, yes! The blood runs strong with you. It is long since I last had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind." His eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he moved back and forth eagerly between his right and left leg, claws tearing holes in the snow. "So you have made your way here. Not an easy task, even for one with the Dragonblood. What have you to ask of me?"

Fina caught her breath and she smiled at him nervously. "Alduin has returned and I need to know how he can be destroyed."

"Mmm. Yes, I suspected you might ask that of me. I have sensed you have been in contact with the Blades. They have shown you Alduin's Wall?"

_How could he possibly know that?_  Her brow furrowed. "Yes, they have. But they are having trouble translating it."

Paarthurnax made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. "They would. I have not seen it myself, so I could not speak to its meaning." He sat back on his haunches, drawing his wings about him.

"The Greybeards didn't tell me about Alduin's Wall." Fina tried not to sound as if she were accusing them.

"It is a well kept secret - it is likely they have no knowledge of its existence."

She nodded, but remained skeptical. How could it be that the Blades knew of it, but not the Greybeards?

"Can you help?"

Paarthurnax nodded his massive head. "Let me show you something, Mal Dovah." He extended his nose to Fina and catching his intention, she placed her hand on the ridge above one of his nostrils.

Immediately, her mind filled with images like a dream but almost as clear as reality. Before her stood warriors, wearing the same armour that Delphine donned. She realised that the warriors were Blades.

They spoke of a Shout that would draw Alduin close enough to attack and capture. They planned to send him forward in time, hoping that the future generation would be better prepared to defeat him. Fina immediately felt shame. The Blades had sent Alduin here on purpose? She wondered if Esbern and Delphine even knew of this.

The Blades used a Shout on Alduin that surrounded him in blue light and forced him to land before them. Some of the Blades attacked, while another two unfurled a massive golden scroll, reading from it in shaking voices.

When they finished, a bolt of lightning shot down from the sky and struck Alduin in the back. He vanished in another flash of light and the scroll they held burnt to ashes in their arms, crumbling into the snow. The ashen shards of it were blown away by the wind.

A moment later, Fina was back in the present. She moved her hand away from Paarthurnax and shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

"What was that?"

"You saw as well as I." He growled. "It was the Blades who sent Alduin forward. They were not equipped to defeat him, and so they passed the burden to you."

Fina felt dizzy and sat herself down in the snow, rubbing at her temples. "That seems cruel."

Paarthurnax rumbled his agreement.

"Could you teach me that Shout, Paarthurnax? The one they used to bring Alduin to the ground?" Fina had seen the scroll destroyed and so knew that it could not be used again as a means of killing Alduin. Perhaps even getting him to the ground would be enough in order to fell him.

"I would like to, Dovahkiin." He eyed her warily. "But I am not yet convinced of your allegiances."

"What do you mean?" Fina asked, bewildered.

"I suspect the Blades' motives are selfish. Working with them shakes my trust in you. Prove yourself to me, and I will teach you the Shout."

Before Fina could ask him to explain further, the dragon shook out his wings and took off, leaving her alone at the top of the mountain.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Over the next several days, Syra kept a journal of all the names the Night Mother delivered to her in her dreams.

Although she was not transported back to the forest and the thorn throne every night, she did awake each morning with a new name and location on her lips. Immediately, she would scribble them down and then stow the journal beneath the straw mattress on her bed.

Astrid had given her a few assignments, but none of the names had matched so far. Syra rested easy with that in mind, assuming she was likely just going crazy and that the names were an invention of her imagination.

Soon, the list was nearly ten names long. She read it over and over, wondering if perhaps the names were ones she had heard in the waking day. None of them were the least bit familiar to her.

_Jareen of Solitude_

_Bran of Windhelm_

_Storis of Windhelm_

_Solarin of Whiterun_

_Kida Madris of Solitude_

_Shul Krad of Solitude_

_Bra'zen Mar of Markarth_

_Marik of Whiterun_

_Kovis of Markarth_

Syra was able to push the dream to the back of her mind and continue with her regular life. She sparred with Nazir and Veezara, laughed with Babette, and killed her marks with a dangerous passion. She picked up a happiness in what she did.

No news of the Blades, Dragonborn, or Greybeards came through Babette's contacts and she let that put her at ease.

Then the day came that one of the names did match. Astrid handed her a slip of paper, and she felt the colour drain from her face, just like the first time.

_Shul Krad_

_The Winking Skeever, Solitude_

_Two marks, 1200 gold_

Astrid took no mind of her, and Syra left the room feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. She was having a hard time trying to convince herself it was just another coincidence. Syra swallowed hard and returned to her room.

She would leave for Solitude in the morning, but tonight she needed to do some investigating. Once she was sure everyone was asleep, she broke into Astrid's study. Lighting a candle, she began to search through the desk.

Eventually, she found what she was looking for. A master list of all the recent contracts, who they were assigned to, and whether or not they had been completed. There were over twenty names in total. Syra flipped open her journal to the page she had written her names down.

Skimming down the master list, she checked name by name for matches. Much to her horror, they were all there scattered amongst the other names. Syra sunk into the chair behind the desk, unable to fathom how this had happened.

"It can't be true." She murmured, checking the list again. And again. On the fourth check, Syra gave up. Two names could maybe be passed off as coincidence, but nine?

Syra replaced the master list and slammed her journal closed. She blew out the candle and slipped out of the study, making her way back to her own room. Luckily, no one seemed to be aware of her late night activies.

Until she was almost back to her room, anyway.

Cicero stood in the hall, leaning against the wall with his hands folded neatly before him. As ever, he grinned wickedly at her and wiggled his eyebrows.

Syra stopped in her tracks, clutching her journal tightly. "What do you want?" She snapped at him.

Cicero's only response was a giggle. He pushed away from the wall and walked towards her. Her entire body tensed. He stopped when they stood side by side, shoulders level.

"Keeping secrets?" He whispered. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and goosebumps rose on her arms. Syra fought her instinct to flinch away from him.

He walked past her before she could respond and when she turned around, he had been swallowed by the darkness.

**F I N A**

* * *

When Fina returned to the halls of High Hrothgar, she couldn't bring herself to move farther than the door. She closed it and then leaned back, sliding to the floor. Any certainty she had felt after her visit with Ulfric has completely fled her. Her position felt so miserably impossible and never before in her life had she wanted to give up so badly.

There was a shuffling across the hall and she looked up to see Arik making his way across the room. It didn't appear that he'd seen her and so she took the time to observe him. His face looked pained, as if he walked with a wound. Her heart ached all the more at the sight.

Just before he disappeared down the opposite hall, he noticed her. His eyes turned towards her and she must have looked a state because he stopped. He took several steps towards her and then stopped, as if remembering that he was meant to stay away.

Fina rubbed at her eyes and stood up, slinging her pack and bow back onto her shoulder. Arik didn't move as she got closer. She stopped a few paces in front of him, looking him over. She wanted to tell him he looked sad; wanted to take him in her arms.

Fina swallowed and dropped her eyes.

"I understand, Arik." When she looked back up, he was frowning. "If only things were different." She sighed and reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Halfway there, she stopped and thought better of it. Her hand dropped back to her side.

Fina shook her head sadly and walked around him, back towards her room.

**A R I K**

* * *

As he noticed her on the ground, the stricken look on her face was enough to feel like a stab in the stomach. He screamed at himself to keep walking, but he couldn't just leave when she was like that.

When she got closer to him and he watched the way her body moved as she walked, he immediately thought back to her bare thighs. The way she had slipped into his bed. Her lips-

Arik cut his thoughts off before they got too far, feeling a faint stirring in his loins even from such a small remembrance. He swallowed.

"I understand, Arik." There was so much he was doubting. Part of him wanted to give up everything, forsake his life with the Greybeards and marry her in some little village. They could be happy together and have children. Live quiet lives.  _Would she even want that? No. She is the Dragonborn and the niece of Ulfric Stormcloak. She's a soldier._

As if reading his mind, she spoke again. "If only things were different." Fina reached out towards him, and he closed his eyes waiting for the contact. When he didn't feel it, he opened his eyes. Fina had walked away and was returning to her room.

Arik pressed a hand over his mouth. Truly, he didn't even know Fina. How could he have such strong feelings for her after their few interactions?

When he returned to his room, he sat at his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a quill. He dipped the quill in the ink and set to writing.

_Fina,_

_There is so much I wish I could tell you and so many conversations I wish we could have. I fear that the pull you have on me will linger and I will wear this hole in my heart where you belong forever. It is a burden I will happily carry; it means that I was once a thought in your head._

_We both have our duties and it doesn't appear that our paths will continue to cross. I wish with all of my heart that I could give you what you desire._

_Despite all of this, I will remain yours._

_Arik_

He folded the letter and stared at it as it lay on his desk. Would he give it to her? Across the hall he heard Fina's door open and close. He knew that she had left her room again.

_Well, Arik. Now is your opportunity._

**F I N A**

* * *

Arngeir had already been in meditation when Fina returned from the Throat of the World. Hastily, she bathed and packed her things ago. She needed to leave this place - she knew she wouldn't be able to handle any prying questions from the Elder.

She didn't even allow herself the opportunity to say goodbye to Arik, knowing it would be even more painful than the last time.

Mind buzzing with uncertainty, Fina left High Hrothgar behind.

**xxxxx**

Fina arrived at Sky Haven in the middle of the night the following day. Delphine and Esbern were already asleep. In the main sleeping chamber, she could make out the shape of four new recruits. Delphine was working fast.

She was exhausted from her travels and began to undress as quietly as possible. When she was down to her tunic and leggings, she rifled through her pack to find woolen socks to keep her warm through the night. Her fingers lit on something foreign. She pulled it out of the pack and held it next to the light from the candle to examine it.

It was a worn wooden toy horse with one ear missing. Around it, a paper was tied in place with a piece of twine.

_Where did this come from?_  She untied the piece of paper, and opened it to see words written in an elegant script.

As she read the words, tears pricked her eyes.

_[…]_

_Despite all of this, I will remain yours._

_Arik_

_P.S: The wooden horse is my oldest friend and a relic from the happy days of my life. It would bring me comfort to know that you have him with you._

Fina set the letter aside and picked up the toy to examine it again. On its haunch, she could see a single letter had been newly carved. It was an A, for Arik. She kissed it, feeling as though she was drowning in the flood of emotions the letter and toy brought her.

She stowed the letter back in her pack and blew out the candle. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, the horse held tightly in her arms.

 


	11. The Blood Flower

**F I N A**

* * *

When Fina awoke, she was alone in the bunk room. She stretched, unfurling herself from the furs and shivering as the cold air hit her. Hunger gnawed at her stomach and she wondered how long she had been asleep - it didn't feel like long enough.

She arrived dressed in the dining hall. Delphine and Esbern stood before the Wall, deep in conversation. It looked as if Esbern's library had exploded; sheets of parchment lay everywhere, the floor, every inch of table, and even tucked into the folds of his robes and belt. Books sat open, pages spewing out like they'd been sick.

Even from where she stood across the room, Fina could see the ink stains on the old man's face and hands. She couldn't help but smile.

When Delphine saw her, she waved her over.

"Well, well...Our Dragonborn returns." As Fina approached, Delphine's brows stitched themselves together. "You look like you've been to Oblivion and back."

"I've been busy." Fina replied, returning her smile and stifling a yawn at the same time. Despite the smiles, she felt a nervous rumbling in her stomach.  _I'm just hungry._

"So have we." Delphine lead her over to Esbern who was kneeling on the floor, scribbling in one book while he read from another. "Haven't we, Esbern?"

"What?" He looked up quickly enough to flash Fina a grin and then returned to the book. "Oh, yes. We have."

"Have you found anything?" Fina crossed her arms. She knew what she wanted to hear - she wanted to hear that they'd discovered a way to defeat Alduin, or if not, that they had discovered the Shout that would bring him to his knees.

"Of course! I have discovered so much…" Esbern's excitement was nearly contagious, but when he drifted off she looked to Delphine for an explanation.

"He has discovered much, but not anything of much use." She frowned.

"I will have in the next week or so!" He chimed in excitedly.

"One of the new recruits managed to recover an old book for him from a barrow. Esbern believes the answers to finishing the translation are inside." Delphine elaborated.

"How many recruits have you got?"

"Five of them. I've got them out in the yard sparring."

"That was quick work."

She shrugged. "Most of them are just mercenaries looking to make a name for themselves."

They watched Esbern scribble madly for another minute before Fina's stomach audibly growled. Delphine laughed and waved for Fina to follow her. They arrived in a kitchen. Half of the place had been filled with rubble, but it had been recently cleared out enough to get a fire going in the hearth.

Fina helped herself to an apple and sat at the small table. Delphine poured her a cup of hot spiced wine and sat across from her.

"So, what news from the Greybeards? We heard their Shout even from here."

"They were pleased I returned with the horn." She paused, wondering if she should tell Delphine about Paarthurnax. The woman looked so friendly, sisterly. She had been nothing but kind and helpful so far. Her Uncle's words echoed in her head, his voice encouraging her to lean towards the Blades. Fina sighed.

"I was introduced to their leader."

Delphine frowned. "Leader?"

"Yes. He lives alone on the top of the mountain. His name is Paarthurnax."

As she spoke his name, Delphine went rigid. A look of ice set itself on her face and her hands balled into fists. " _Paarthurnax?_ "

"You've heard of him?"

"I should have known." She hissed.

"I don't understand." Fina felt herself shrink away, not understanding Delphine's sudden anger.

Remembering herself, Delphine smoothed her expression. "I'm sorry, Fina. My anger is not with you. Did Paarthurnax tell you who he was?"

She shook her head. "Not beyond his name. He also showed me a...vision."

"What vision?"

"I asked if he knew how to defeat Alduin. He showed me a scene of the Blades fighting Alduin at his last defeat. It showed how they sent him forward in time. To us."

Delphine sighed and leaned back. "He  _would_  choose to show you that angle. It was not the Blades finest moment, but they had their reasons. Reasons that Paarthurnax did not show you."

"Who is he really?"

"He was Alduin's second in command. His  _advisor_." She spat the last word, looking as if she had a foul taste in her mouth. "We thought him slain, but it seems he has remained hidden all these years. Treacherous Greybeards!" Delphine's fist hit the table, causing the wine to jump in Fina's cup and spill over the side.

Fina felt dread set in her gut. "What were the reasons? What didn't he show me?"

She pressed her fingers to her forehead, eyes locked on the table as she spoke. "The Blades had help in learning how to take care of Alduin. That supposed help was Paarthurnax. He agreed to turn on Alduin if they promised his safety. But when the time came, he fled. The Blades had no choice but to do what they did. It was their hope that the Blades would thrive and discover the way to end Alduin so that we would be equipped to fight him upon his return."

"And we're not."

"We're not." Delphine agreed. "But there is one thing you can do."

Fina looked at her questioningly.

"You can kill him."

"Kill Paarthurnax?"

"Absolutely." She leaned forwards, eagerly speaking. "You have their trust. It would catch them by surprise, they won't see it coming. I have no doubt that Paarthurnax is assisting Alduin. How could he not be?"

The blood drained from Fina's face. "I don't know, Delphine. He was alone there, isolated. I don't think he is helping Alduin."

"Of course he is!" She barked. "You  _must_  kill him. We can't even take the chance."

Fina swallowed, taken aback by Delphine's hostility. Could she really kill Paarthurnax? The Greybeards would never forgive her.  _Arik_  would never forgive her. Surely he isn't helping Alduin, not if he is willing to tell her how to defeat him. But then...he hadn't actually told her how, had he? If he truly was against Alduin, wouldn't he want to spare no time in eliminating him?

"If you are to work with us, you can have no doubts. I understand that you hold affection for the Greybeards, but think of all they have kept hidden from you. Can you really trust them?" Delphine was convincing, Fina would give her that. "Besides," She said, mood light again as if there had never been any tension in the room. "Your Uncle has agreed to work with us. I leave today to meet with him in Windhelm. You have my thanks for arranging the meeting."

Fina forced herself to smile, nodding. "Of course. He was very interested in meeting with you."

"I know you will not let us down. Will you, Fina?" Delphine smiled warmly at her, but the warmth didn't touch her eyes.

Fina swallowed. "No. I won't let you down."

"You will take care of Paarthurnax for us?"

She nodded again.

"Good, we would not want to have to take care of you, too!" She laughed as if it was all a joke, but Fina still felt the threat in her words. Delphine stood and put a hand on her shoulder. "I will see you back here. Perhaps you should bring us one of his eyes, eh? So we know he is truly dead this time."

Delphine gave the shoulder she held a squeeze and then left the kitchen.

Fina sat in stunned silence. Ulfric had called her a leader but she was beginning to feel as though she had no control over her life. Was she not the Dragonborn, Alduin's Bane? She knew that she was; the Greybeards had declared it to all of Tamriel. So why, then, did it feel like she was being used as a tool in someone else's plot?

If she sided with the Blades, it would mean killing Paarthurnax and never learning the Shout she needed to help defeat Alduin. So far that was the only solid answer she had in the puzzle of Alduin's defeat. Not to mention she would lose the council of the Elders.

If she sided with the Greybeards, she would lose the help of the Blades and whatever information they learned from Alduin's Wall - even if they were only working based on the rumour that it held the information they needed. It also meant risking the chance of her Uncle's disappointment - something that was close to her worst nightmare.

_She_  is the Dragonborn, so weren't they meant to help her instead of delivering subtle ultimatums?

Fina found herself fleetingly wishing that Alduin had attacked Helgen a few moments later than he had.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra's trip to Solitude was uneventful. The contact was discreet, the kills were clean, the gold was easily earned. It wasn't until she was back at the Sanctuary that anything of note happened.

She received another visit from the Night Mother.

This time as Syra walked through the foggy forest, she knew exactly where she was going. When she broke through the thorn bushes, white skirts hiked up nearly to her thighs, the Night Mother was waiting for her.

She stood before her throne, lovely as ever. This time her hair hung loose, free of the intricate braid that kept it captive the last time Syra had seen her.

Syra stood still as the Night Mother approached her and took her hand.

"Syra, my love, how I have missed you!" Her breath was like ice as she ghosted her lips over Syra's knuckles. "I trust you have received my messages?"

_The names._  She shivered. "Yes."

"Good." The Night Mother took her arm and together they began a slow loop around the clearing, as if they were out for a leisurely afternoon stroll. "Astrid tries, but she has always been so selfish. She serves herself more than she has ever served me."

They were silent for some time, completing nearly three circles of the clearing before the Night Mother spoke to her again.

"You haven't told anyone about me." It was a statement. Syra tried to keep her breathing steady. Her dream-self wanted so badly to please this woman. To do anything and everything she wanted.

"Should I have?"

"Only if you wish to." She leaned in to whisper against Syra's ear. "It can be our secret, for now."

Syra's eyes slide shut and she felt herself flush with pleasure at the Night Mother's closeness. They stopped walking and she stood to face her.

"The time will come, my sweet, when you will be ready to lead the Brotherhood." Her fingers brushed from Syra's cheek, down the side of her neck and came to rest over her heart. As her hand stopped, Syra felt her heart jump, as if it was trying to leap from her chest and meet the Night Mother's touch.

"You are such a fragile little flower." The Night Mother pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she withdrew, Syra's tongue darted out of its own accord, tasting the place their lips had touched. "With such a sad heart."

She withdrew without warning and turned her back on Syra, walking towards her throne. She stopped beside it and bent to examine a black rose which had started to grow from one of the woven branches. She plucked it and held it to her nose, inhaling.

"There is a boy, isn't there?" She asked without looking back.

"A-a b-boy?" Syra felt weak in the knees, and she closed her eyes against the dizzy feeling.

When her eyes reopened, the Night Mother stood before her. She twisted the rose between her fingers as she examined it. Now that she was closer, Syra could see that one of the dark petals was stained with a single drop of red.  _Blood._

"Mmm. Yes, Arik. You have been fearing for him."

"How do you know that?"

"You are precious to me, Syra. I am always close by you." She smiled disarmingly and Syra couldn't tear her eyes from the bowed shape of her lips. "Because you are precious to me, I will stay close by him as well."

The Night Mother pressed the rose into Syra's hand. "Goodbye, Listener." She cupped her cheek and, as before, pressed a featherlight kiss to her lips.

Syra awoke slowly, blinking in the soft light from the candle that still burned on her bedside table. As she sat up and stretch, her eyes turned toward the candle, meaning to blow it out. Beside it on the table sat a single black rose, one of its petals marred with a red droplet.

_The Blood Flower._

**A R I K**

* * *

At meditation the next day, he overheard Arngeir speaking to Wulfgar in the hall.

"And she isn't in her room?" Arngeir was saying. "I couldn't find her anywhere. Her bed had not been slept in. She must have left in the night, but I can't understand why."

There was a sigh and Arik strained to hear his next words.

"I had wanted to speak with her about Paarthurnax. I just can't fathom why she left so quickly."

Arik felt a pang of worry. He knew that she had meant to leave tomorrow, so why did she leave in the night? He hoped that she was okay. Arngeir was right - it was strange. Wouldn't she want to speak to Arngeir about what she'd learned from Paarthurnax?

_Stop it now._ He chastised himself. _She isn't yours to worry about anymore._

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina sat in the same spot in the kitchen for hours, until her wine went cold and the half-eaten apple turned brown. It wasn't until one of the new recruits entered that she was broken from her train of thought.

He was young. Dark features, rose-coloured cheeks, and a nervous, twitching smile. It looked as if he might have some Imperial blood in him, but Fina paid that no mind.

"Oh, Dragonborn. I'm sorry. I could come back-"

Fina waved her hand, cutting him off. "No, by all means. Join me." He stood in the door for a moment longer, as if unsure of what to do.

"Come, don't be shy. I'll pour you some wine." She reached behind her and pulled the bottle from before the hearth, pouring him a cup of it and setting it in the spot Delphine had sat.

"Thank you, my Lady."

Fina nearly laughed out loud at the way he addressed her. "Fina, please."

"Fina." He repeated, tentatively sipping the wine. He grimaced a little, but then forced the mouthful down and smiled a little. Perhaps he was too young to have had enough wine to acquire a taste for it. This bottle was especially bitter.

"Whats your name?"

"Harlen."

"How old are you, Harlen?"

"Nearly fifteen." He puffed his chest a little as he said it, and Fina couldn't help but grin.

"What made you want to join the Blades?"

"I was assigned -" Harlen choked on the word and fidgeted in his seat, looking extremely uncomfortable. His voice trembled as he back-tracked. "I mean, I was assigned by my...father. He, uh. He knows Delphine."

Fina worked to keep the suspicion from her face, instead taking a sip of her cold wine. "He must be proud of you."

Harlen bobbed his head, obviously pleased that she ignored his slip.

"I've got to go now, Harlen. I hope to see you soon." She stood up and headed for the door, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

So young. Fina shook her head and went to seek out Esbern. She found him exactly where she expected - standing before the wall.

"Esbern, have you made any progress?"

"Oh, Dragonborn!" He had been examining the wall through a strange piece of glass that seemed to increase the size of whatever you looked at through it. "It is slow going, I'm afraid."

"I need to return to High Hrothgar - Delphine has asked something of me. I should be gone a week." She crossed her arms and examined the part of the wall he was looking at.

"I will undoubtedly have answers for you upon your return." The old man set down the glass and turned to look at her. "I feel that I am very close. Very, very close."

"Good." Fina smiled at him and turned to go.

"Safe travels, Dragonborn!" Esbern called after her.

'Safe' was a word that Fina suspected would not have anything to do with her trip. She could hardly believe she was about to set out again. It felt that all she had done lately was travel. Perhaps it was time she invested in a horse; her legs and feet would undoubtedly thank her for it. In fact, she could tell even now that she had developed several blisters on her way here.

Pushing the pain to the back of her mind, Fina packed her bag to leave again. She picked up the wooden horse, examining it again. After a moments thought, she left it under her pillow.

_I will be back for you._

 


	12. Breathtaking and Bloody

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina took her time returning to High Hrothgar. She needed time to think, needed time to sort out what was going on in her head without any external influences. She could feel herself being worn thin - it was a feeling she recognised from her days in the army with her Uncle. Sometimes they would march for weeks with battles in between, stopping only for a few hours a night. This wasn't much different.

She realised something as she walked: she was the Dragonborn and she alone could save Tamriel. That meant she had to do whatever she could to defeat Alduin. Her worries about losing Arik, upsetting the Greybeards, Delphine's wrath, and even her Uncle's disappointment were all insignificant when she considered the scale of the true problem.

Unfortunately, this brought up a whole new set of questions. Should she keep the Greybeards in ignorance about the Blades? Should she at the same time pretend to the Blades that she had killed Paarthurnax? Could she lie convincingly enough to fool them both? All of this deception just didn't seem like the right path to take. What other options did she have?

Fina stopped several times at inns and taverns to have meals and sleep, sometimes she even to just quench her thirst before she carried on. The way was slow and it took her two days to make it as far as Rorikstead.

As she walked up the main road into the village, the tell-tale screech of a dragon pierced the sky.

_Stendarr's mercy, now of all times?_

The dragon circled above, red and copper scales glinting in the sunlight. It let forth a jet of fire that struck the crops of a small farm on the outskirts of the village. Fina snapped into action, rushing towards the screaming farmers and she was joined shortly by a group of nervous looking city guards.

"I will draw its attention," Fina shouted to them. "Use anything you've got against it!"

They looked at her curiously, no doubt wondering who she was to give them orders. Their answer was provided in the form of a Shout.

Fina looked up at the dragon and braced herself.

" _YOL TOOR SHUL_!" Fire shot from her body as it had before, engulfing the dragon. It screamed angrily, turning on her and abandoning the farm. It flapped its giant wings, lowering itself slowly to the ground as it readied itself to Shout at her again.

Fina threw herself to the side and rolled out of the way of its blast. Even though she was out of the direct line of fire, the heat was still enough to make her feel like she was melting.

The guards - who were now following her orders - surrounded the dragon, shoot at it with arrows and throwing spears. Fina also drew her bow, shooting several arrows at the dragon's eyes and nose while her Voice recharged. When she felt the power slowly building back in her, she readied herself again.

The dragon picked up one of the guards in it's powerful jaws, ripping through him with his fangs and shaking his head back and forth until the man was nothing more than bits of meat and bone on the ground. When the dragon prepared itself to take off again, Fina knew she had to stall it and keep it within easy striking distance.

" _FUS RO DAH_!" Although the dragon was large enough that it wasn't thrown back, it did stagger a few steps, raising its wing instinctively to protect itself. While it was in this state, Fina shot two more arrows at it in quick succession. They sliced through the membrane of its wing, keeping her blind as to if they had met their mark.

Her question was answered as the dragon gave a cry of pain and fell onto its stomach, sounding like thunder as it hit the ground. The guards backed up as the dragon's massive body began to twitch. Fina boldly walked towards it, maneuvering around its wing so she could see its face.

Its golden eyes blinked at her slowly. An arrow had hit it in the head, and it seemed to have embedded itself in his brain if the twitching was anything to go by. She knew it was taking its final breaths.

Resting her hand on its nose, she bowed her head. Such a great and beautiful creature, it was such a shame there could be no peace between them.

" _Drem , kendov_." She murmured as its eyes slid closed and its body fell still. "Peace, warrior."

Fina was exhausted, never having used two shouts in such a small period of time. She dropped to her knees as she felt the soul of the dragon engulf her in a summery whirlwind. When it was finished, she heard the whispering voices of the guards around her.

"Dragonborn!" One of them addressed her. "We are in your debt!"

She got to her feet slowly and turned to look at them. They looked unsure of how to act. One of them bent as if he were going to bow to her and Fina shook her head, gesturing for him to stop.

"No debt. I'm only glad I was near." She swallowed, trying to bite back the sadness she felt at having taken the dragon's life. Now that she understood them better and could speak as they did, it was much more bittersweet. Not at all like when she had killed Mirmulnir.

_Afterall, I do have the soul of a dragon, do I not? I have slain a kinsman in that regard._

Many of the villagers were running to the damaged farm with buckets of water, trying to salvage what they could of the crops.

"What should we do with the skeleton?" One of the guards asked her.

Fina shrugged. "Sell it?" She suggested as she walked past them, leaving them all staring at her back. She decided not to dwell in Rorikstead like she had originally planned.

Killing this dragon had told her one thing. She couldn't delay any longer - she needed to go and kill Paarthurnax. Whether it meant losing the Greybeards or not. Innocent lives were at stake and it was her responsibility to help them.

Fina set to the road, jaw clenched and heart beating cold in her chest.

**xxxxx**

Two days later she arrived at High Hrothgar. Before she entered, Fina sat on the steps, staring out into the valley below. It was breathtaking. The sun was just setting, painting orange and pink clouds across the horizon. The snow reflected the same colours like the still waters of a pond.

_How can Skyrim be so breathtaking and so disastrously bloody all at once?_

When she grew too cold to sit any longer, she mustered her courage and entered the main hall for what she imagined would be the last time.

Inside, she was greeted by Arngeir.

"Fina!" He helped her off with her pack and weapons, looking her up and down. The worry was clear on his face. "We wondered where you had gone. You left so quickly."

She smiled tiredly. "I'm sorry, Arngeir. I had an urgent matter that called my attention."

Arngeir looked at her, obviously expecting her to elaborate. When she didn't offer any more of an explanation, he nodded.

"I need to speak with Paarthurnax tomorrow."

"Ah." He nodded as if he understood, but Fina knew he truly did not. How could he?

"How did your first meeting with him go?"

"Well enough, considering I greeted him with arrows."

Arngeir paled. "Perhaps I should have offered warning...Only, I feared you wouldn't see him if I told you the full truth."

"It hardly matters now." She said dismissively. Fina let him usher her towards the kitchen.

Arik entered the main hall, watching them with wide eyes. Fina carefully avoided looking at him, the memory of his letter made her face burn.

"Take Fina's things to her room, Arik." Arngeir told him absently, listening as Fina continued her story.

"I asked him about how Alduin was defeated the last time. He told me about the Blades and how they sent him forward in time." She sat at the table, letting Arngeir pour her a cup of water.

"I am sorry I didn't give you the full story, Fina. I needed to wait until you were ready."

"I understand, Arngeir."

"Did he say anything else?" The Elder prompted.

Fina wasn't sure how to continue. There was so much she was keeping from him at this point - well, from all of them, really - that she knew it would be dangerous to spin the web of lies too thick.

"He mentioned a Shout that could force Alduin to the ground, but he wasn't ready to teach it to me yet."

"Paarthurnax is nothing if not careful. It is the main reason he has remained alive for all these years."

"It is quite a feat." She remarked, silently wishing she wasn't the only one who understood the irony of their words.

"Are you well?" The concern in his voice was like a blade to her throat.

"Just tired. There was a dragon attack when I was in Rorikstead and I have not slowed down since then."

"You know that you are always welcome to stay as long as you like, Dovahkiin."

"Thank you." She stared into her cup.

"I am needed in the temple." Arngeir stood up and excused himself from the kitchen, leaving Fina alone with her quickly building self hatred.

**xxxxx**

Fina decided that she would sneak out in the night and do the deed then.

She felt as if she were outside her body, watching herself prepare. The first thing she did was sleep. She would need her strength, both for the fight and for the journey aftwards.

Fina had no doubt she would be moving automatically by the end of it. It was how she always felt after a gory battle when neither her mind nor body could consciously continue. The other soldiers jokingly called it the Draugr State - all motor function and no brain.

When the sky was black, she gathered her things and left through the doors into the courtyard as soundlessly as she could manage. She hid her pack behind a pillar so that they would be ready on her way back through. Hopefully the battle would be quiet enough that she'd have time to run back through without being caught.

As she looked into the glowing faces of the dual moons, she felt the cold slowly suck the life from her bones. Each step she took in the snow was deafening to her ears and she felt herself beginning to panic.

Would he be sleeping? Could she kill him quietly and without pain? Would the Greybeards feel his soul pass? Would they Shout her from the mountain to her death?

It wasn't until she was several yards away from the door that Fina realised she was crying. The tears barely made it from her eyes before they were frozen to her cheeks. She brushed them away angrily.

_What have I become?_

"I can't do this." She whispered to herself.

Fina took three more steps before her legs refused to move. Her entire body was shaking.

"I can't do this."

She heard the doors open and close quietly behind her.

"I can't do this."

She shed her heavy cloak, throwing it carelessly to the side. _Let me freeze to death in this courtyard and never see a dragon again._

"I can't."

Footsteps in the snow behind her. Fina collapsed to her knees, bare hands bracing her from falling face first into the snow. It was so cold that it felt like the tips of knives cutting into her fingers.

"I can't do it. I won't do it. Oblivion take me." She whispered it over and over again like a sacred chant. "Oblivion take me, oblivion take me."

There was a rustling and someone settled her cloak back over her shoulders. Arik knelt beside her, pressing his warm fingers to her cheek and forcing her to look at him. His eyes were soft and questioning in the silver-blue light.

"I can't do it, Arik." She mumbled, leaning her weight on him and hugging her frozen hands to her chest.

Arik rubbed at her back, pressing a steaming kiss to her brow. He pulled her to her feet and lead her back to the doors.

Fina pulled away from him before they could get there, taking several steps back. He stared at her, confused.

"I need to kill him, Arik. They want me to kill him."

Without his voice, Arik couldn't ask the question but she saw it plain on his face.

"Paarthurnax. They want me to kill Paarthurnax." She covered her mouth as she spoke the words, new tears brimming and turning to crystals before they could fall.

Arik hesitated, face conflicted. He seemed to make a decision then and walked back to her, placing a hand on either side of her face. ' _Wake up_ ' his eyes told her, thumbs brushing away her icy tears. He took her hand and this time Fina allowed him to pull her inside. She grabbed her pack on the way and followed Arik into his room.

He sat her down on his bed and lit a candle. Fina watched him collect a piece of parchment and quill. He perched on the bed beside her, using a large book as a makeshift writing desk.

_What's going on, Fina?_

"Please don't hate me." She hated how pathetic her voice sounded as it came out.

_Never._

She took a deep breath, wondering where she could even start. "I didn't tell you - any of you - but when I went to get the horn, someone had already taken it."

Fina recounted to him how she met Delphine and learned of the Blades. How she had helped them access Alduin's Wall. She spoke of meeting with her Uncle and how he had urged her to side with the Blades. The vision that Paarthurnax had shown her. She told him everything, the words flowing from her like water from a broken dam.

"When I told Delphine about Paarthurnax…" She hugged herself, the words seeming stuck. "She told me I had to kill him, or else they wouldn't help me. She is meeting with my Uncle now, to work out an alliance. He will help fight dragons if they will help fight Imperials."

When she finished, Arik sat and stared at the parchment he balanced on his knee. He lifted his quill several times to write, but stopped each time. He didn't write a single word.

Fina felt herself crack. "I'm so sorry, Arik. I can't do it, and if I can't do it…" She didn't even want to think on it.

Finally, he began to write.

_It will be alright, but you need to tell Arngeir everything._

Fina shook her head, despairing. "I don't think I could make him understand. I have kept too much from him."

Arik sighed, setting the parchment aside and scratching at the stubble on his chin.

"I want to die."

At her words, his attention snapped to her. He shook his head violently and took her face in his hands.

They were so close now. Fina could feel his breath in her hair and smell the cold bite of melting snow on his robes. His body heat soaked into her and it was overwhelmingly comforting, despite the circumstances. Before she could think it through, Fina leaned forwards and pressed her lips to his.

When she pulled back, she examined his face. She expected to see revulsion or panic or guilt. Instead, his eyes were soft and, this time, it was Arik who kissed her.

Fina felt a small noise of pleasure leave her throat, and she rested her hands on his chest as he drew her closer. After all of her fear and longing for him, nothing had ever felt as right to her as this kiss, even if it was innocent and chaste.

But nothing that good can last.

**A R I K**

* * *

"So this is how you repay our kindness?" Arngeir stood in the doorway, and Arik couldn't believe neither of them had heard him open the door.

Arik jumped away from Fina, and both of them stood. His entire body was too hot and he was sure he looked like a boyish fool in the wake of their kiss.

The Elder stormed forward and grabbed Fina, tearing her away from Arik. He took her by the arms and shook her, eyes glaring daggers in the darkness.

Arik had never seen him like this, losing control and displaying such rage. He didn't even think that Arngeir was capable of it.

"Arngeir -" Fina tried to disentangle herself, but he tightened her grip. Arik watched her face cloud with anger.

" _FUS_!" She kept her Shout quiet, but it was enough to send Arngeir stumbling backwards.

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion before Arik's eyes. Fina swore at Arngeir and he advanced on her again, slapping her hard across the face. A heavy silence fell over the room. Fina held her cheek and slowly turned her attention back to the old man. Her eyes were hard and unforgiving.

"You're lucky I don't have my sword, old man." Her voice was low and dangerous, any traces of the frightened girl were gone and in her place stood a warrior. "The Blades were right about you. Maybe they were right about everything."

Arngeir lunged for her, wrapping his fingers around her neck and pushing her back until she hit the wall.

"NO!" Arik shouted, feeling the word break physically from his throat.

Fina looked at him, her eyes wide. Arngeir was shocked and let Fina go, turning to stare at him.

"Enough of this, both of you!" Arik continued, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. The last time he had spoken, he had the voice of a boy. Now, he had the voice of a man.

The walls began to tremble around them, but it was minimal in comparison to when any of the Elders spoke. Arik felt the need to cover his mouth and hide, but instead he forced himself to hold his ground. His eyes bore holes into Arngeir.

"What is going on here?" Wulfgar's voice echoed throughout the room, causing the walls to shake again, this time more violently. Dust poured from the cracks in the ceiling, dusting his robes in grey.

"Leave this place." Arngeir said to Arik, who felt his resolve begin to drop. "You have broken your vows. I come in here and find you with this...this whore! Kissing her, of all things! And now you speak?"

"Be quiet, Arngeir. You make yourself look foolish." Wulfgar walked forwards and stood between Arik and Arngeir.

Fina stayed back against the wall, looking horrified.

"She came here to kill Paarthurnax, Wulfgar. She has been working with the Blades against us!" Arngeir protested. Wulfgar silenced him with a sharp look before turning his attention to Fina.

"Is this true?"

Fina looked at Wulfgar, her eyes pleading with him. "Yes, but it was a mistake. All of it was a mistake! I never would have gone through with it."

Arik felt the need to jump in and defend her, but his mouth was stuck shut.

Wulfgar's look was sad as he took in Fina's words. He shook his head. "You kept too much from her, Arngeir. You left her vulnerable to doubt. I warned you this would happen - that the Blades would find her."

Arngeir looked stricken and opened his mouth to speak again, but Wulfgar didn't even let him begin to talk.

"I will deal with this, Brother. I think it is best you go and think of your actions here tonight."

Arngeir bowed his head and without another look at either of them, he left the room.

Wulfgar turned and put a hand on Arik's shoulder. "Unfortunately, Arik, Arngeir is correct. You have broken your vows and, therefore, are no longer our apprentice." He smiled sadly. "But it is my belief that Kyne has a different path for you." As he spoke, Wulfgar glanced pointedly at Fina.

"Elder Wulfgar, this is my life. This is all I know now." He spoke in a whisper, finding that if he did, the walls didn't shake.

"The first sixteen years of your life, all you knew was an orphanage. You have adapted before, you will adapt again." Wulfgar smiled and then looked past him to Fina.

"I think it is best you both leave tonight. Fina, I trust you will not proceed with this task?"

"No, of course not. No." She managed to stammer.

He nodded. "Pack your things, I will wait for you by the doors." Wulfgar turned and left them alone.

Arik couldn't move. It was as if his whole existence had been ripped out from under him. Leave the Greybeards? He couldn't even fathom what that would mean for him.

Fina covered her mouth, a look of horror on her face. "This is my doing. I am so sorry, Arik."

He couldn't look at her. He simply grabbed the same pack he had used when he had left the orphanage and began to fill it with his few possessions.

_This is a nightmare. Any moment I'm going to wake up._

Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn't true. This was real and this was truly happening and he had to deal with the consequences. There was no going back now; the damage had been done.

**F I N A**

* * *

"Arik?" Fina asked uncertainly. She was so overwhelmed by what had just happened. He wouldn't even look at her. All he did was begin to pack with slow, methodical movements. She didn't try to speak again.

She followed him out to the entry hall where Wulfgar waited.

Fina found herself fighting back panic. Arngeir had hit her. Arik had spoken. Wolfgar had spoken. Arik had broken his vows. For her. All of this was happening because of her. Because of her mistakes. Her own selfish actions.

_You are a fool, Fina._

In the hall, Wulfgar hugged Arik tightly. "If you need me, please write. I will do whatever I can."

Fina held back, staring at the doors as if going through them might kill her.

"That goes for you too, Dovahkiin." Wulfgar's arms came around her and Fina found herself returning it. His hug reminded her of her Uncle and she found some comfort in the embrace. "I know that you will find the right path, my girl. Be kind to yourself."

His compassion touched her heart. "Thank you."

Arik pushed open the door and together they walked out into the snow.

**xxxxx**

Arik had not spoken or looked at Fina the entire walk down the steps. She couldn't say that she blamed him.

As he was not used to endless walking like Fina, they had to stop frequently for him to rest. She gave him what water she had, not taking any for herself. The guilt that sat on her shoulders was as heavy and monstrous as Alduin himself.

When they arrived in Ivarstead, Fina bought them a room at the inn. They both received probing looks from the innkeeper, what with Arik's heavy black robes and downcast eyes. Fina ignored her and lead him upstairs to their room.

Once inside, Fina removed her armour and robes, until she was in nothing but her leggings and tunic. Arik sat on the edge of the bed without evening removing his pack. After a few minutes of chilly silence, she tried speaking to him again.

"I know this is my fault, Arik." She said softly. "I've ruined everything."

He didn't reply and she felt the frustration rise in her chest. Although she was willing to take almost all of the blame, it wasn't as if she had acted entirely alone. Her life had also just been drastically changed.

"You won't even look at me?" She came to stand in front of him, but still he didn't move. Fina sighed and covered her face, trying to keep her temper at bay. They needed to figure out what to do next and she couldn't do that on her own.

"Fine. I'm going to go and get you some clothes." She grabbed her coin pouch and walked out the door, closing it loudly behind her.

It was harvest season in Ivarstead and the place was alive with farmers working to bring in their crops. Fina loved the orange-gold of the leaves on the trees and the smell of cider and dirt in the air. Today, though, it brought her little comfort.

She found the general store in Ivarstead and purchased two sets of clothes and a cloak for Arik. After a moments consideration, she also bought him a dagger.

Part of Fina dreaded going back to the room. She stopped downstairs to purchase some food and two bottles of mead from the innkeeper.

_I'd sooner fight a dragon._

She took a deep breath before she pushed open the door. Arik had still not moved, but she could see now that he was doubled over in tears, his body tense and shaking. Her resolved disappeared.

"Arik…" Fina set everything down and knelt before him, stroking his hair. She had never before experienced the kind of pain she felt seeing him like this.

He looked up at her eventually and his eyes were red and forlorn.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, touching his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

He reached out, sinking into her and clinging tightly to the back of her shirt. Fina made comforting noises, rubbing his back and pressing warm kisses against his neck and shoulder.

After awhile, he let her go. They stared at each other and Fina was afraid he would ask her to leave. Instead, he surprised her with a kiss.

Fina felt relief soak through her as she kissed him back. He was so tentative about it and it occured to Fina that he had likely never kissed anyone before. When they pulled apart, she stood up and offered him her hands, pulling him to his feet.

"Come on." He reluctantly let go of her hands so that she could help him off with his pack and heavy cloak. He was feverishly hot beneath them. Fina brushed her fingers through his hair and wiped some of the tears from his cheeks with the edge of her sleeve. He looked too young to wear the robes, especially here in the bright pinkish light of the setting sun through the leaves.

"Do you want to change?"

Arik nodded, so Fina turned back and grabbed one of the tunics and pair of breeches she'd bought. She handed them to him and then turned to pick up the food, setting it on the table. She grabbed the dagger from her boot and set to work slicing the bread, cheese, and apples.

"Fina." She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him. His voice was deeper than she had expected, even though he spoke at barely a whisper.

Her breath deserted her as she took in the sight. He seemed younger now with his shaggy hair and lithe body. The tunic and breeches fit him well. Fina wanted to tell him how handsome he looked, but it didn't seem appropriate.

"They suit you." She said instead.

Arik shook his head, looking down at his discarded black robe. "More than those, apparently."

Fina pressed a hand over her mouth, realising what she'd said. It had been foolish. "I didn't, I mean...I…" She shook her head, cutting herself off.

To her surprise, Arik's mouth twitched into a half smile. "I know." He took a couple of steps towards her. After a moment of watching each other, he spoke again. "I don't blame you for this."

"You should."

"I made my own choices."

"Its so strange to hear your voice." Fina touched his throat, feeling the vibrations there as he answered her.

"Its strange to speak."

Fina nodded and turned back to the food. She wasn't sure what to say now. She almost felt it had been easier when she had done all of the talking.

"Here." She passed him some bread and cheese. He took it and followed her to sit on the edge of the bed. Fina uncorked a bottle of mead and passed it to him and then opened one herself.

They ate without speaking again. Fina felt uneasy and wasn't sure how to treat him. Everything had changed now.

Arik took her empty mead bottle from her and set it along with his on the table. He came to sit back beside her and clasped his hands in his lap.

"What do we do?"

Fina sighed. "I suppose I need to go Windhelm. Delphine will be there with my Uncle. The two of them will be formulating plans, I'm sure."

"What will they do when they find out you didn't kill Paarthurnax?"

"I don't know." Fina stared at the floor, dreading telling her Uncle that she'd let him down. "I can't ask you to come with me, not after what I've done." She took a deep breath. "But I would...I mean, it would make me happy if you would come with me."

She chanced a look at Arik, who was staring at her incredulously. Afraid, her mouth opened of its own accord and more words tumbled free haphazardly.

"I mean, I know you probably wouldn't want to. I've kind of ruined your life."

When he still didn't speak, she opened her mouth again, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

"You talk too much." He told her.

"One of us has to."

She earned another half smile from him and Arik took her hands.

"Of course I'm coming with you, Fina."

They sat in a comfortable quiet, Arik playing with her fingers and turning her hands over and over, as if trying to decode a secret message they held. Fina felt a little self conscious of her hands. They belonged to warrior and carried all of the calluses and scars that came with the job. They were not the soft delicate hands of a lady. They were strong and sure and battle-tested.

When the sun had completely left the sky, she pulled Arik to bed with her. He seemed unsure of what to do, scarcely even touching her. Fina reminded herself again how all of this must be so new to him.

She pushed Arik onto his back and curled herself against his side, head resting on his chest. The beat of his heart thumped in her ear and he ran his fingers through her hair.

Despite the days events, with Arik at her side, Fina couldn't help but feel a little more hopeful. She fell asleep with those thoughts, having absolutely no idea that tomorrow everything she thought she knew was would be flipped upside down all over again.

 


	13. The Listener

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra found herself once again in the company of the Night Mother, but this time something was very different.

She ran towards the throne as if her life depended on it, skin and dress tearing open in the thorns and staining her with red. Syra didn't understand why she felt so panicked, but her entire body hummed with it.

When she arrived in the clearing, the Night Mother was pacing back and forth. As she saw Syra, she stopped and rushed towards her in a flurry of raven-hued skirts.

"Syra!" She was urgent, clutching Syra's hands tightly in her own.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You know I told you I would keep your safe, my sweet." She tilted her head and Syra could feel the Dunmer's body tremble.

"Yes."

"I fear there is an evil building that would hurt you and your Arik."

"Evil? What evil?"

"A woman who calls herself Delphine." The Night Mother spat the name contemptuously. "You know that the Imperials would seek out the Brotherhood and stop us from performing our duty?"

Syra nodded, and so the Night Mother continued.

"This Delphine has aligned herself with them. She has led the Dragonborn astray and plans to hand her over to the Imperials. When she does, they will have full use of the Dragonborn and will be able to use her against us."

Syra frowned. While she understood the need to hinder the Imperials as much as possible, she wasn't sure how this had anything to do with Arik or his safety. She also wasn't sure how having the Dragonborn would help the Imperials locate the Sanctuary.

"I have seen the Dragonborn - she is with Arik now in Ivarstead. I would have you warn them about Delphine's actions."

The dread crept up the back of her throat like poisonous sludge. Arik wasn't with the Greybeards? Arik was with the Dragonborn? What could that mean?

She remembered the letter she found and the ones that Babette had shown her. It was if the pieces were starting to come together, but her mind wasn't able to comprehend their entirety yet.

"I don't understand." She heard herself say dumbly.

"My darling flower," The Night Mother lifted a hand to stroke through her hair. "All will become clear in time. Have trust in me, I will keep you safe."

"What proof can I give the Dragonborn of Delphine's actions?"

"Tell her to go to the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood. There is a secret room below the bar. The Dragonborn will understand - she has seen it before. The proof is all there."

"They are in Ivarstead now?" Syra stared into the Night Mother's deep red eyes, seeing there the concerned love she had been longing to see all her life.

"Yes, you must hurry to them, Syra. But you must not reveal your true self, do you understand?"

Syra nodded warily. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal to Arik that the sweet little girl he had known was now a blood-thirsty assassin. The thought made her feel sick.

"Go now. Wake up." The Night Mother pressed a burning kiss to her lips, with so much urgency that it left Syra breathless as she awoke with a strange tingling between her thighs.

She didn't stop to dwell on it, simply pulling on her shroud and mask, gathering her dagger and small pack and heading for the door. Something made her pause, however, and she returned to retrieve Toriah's letter.

With all possible haste, Syra emerged from the Sanctuary and started for Ivarstead.

**xxxxx**

Syra could not remember the last time she had run so hard for so long - perhaps never. By the time she reached Ivarstead, the sun was just beginning to rise and she was dying for water and air. She collapsed beside a well and drew up the bucket to drink her fill.

It wouldn't carry the Brotherhood name well to arrive before the Dragonborn sputtering and gasping for breath.

When she felt her body relax, she headed for the inn. There was a balcony around the top floor which seemed to be connected to the majority of the rooms. It didn't take her long to shimmy up the side and land soundlessly.

She went from room to room, peeking through the windows until she knew she had found the right one. The sight within was nearly too much for her.

Arik, just the same as she remembered save for the scruff on his chin, lay sleeping beside a beautiful woman with blood red hair. The way he held her, even as he slept, with such tenderness immediately made her chest seize with jealousy. What she would not do to be in the Dragonborn's place!

Pushing these feelings aside, Syra slid the window up easily and crawled inside. She perched on the end of the bed, small and light as a bird. She watched them sleep in peace, listened to their shallow breathing, and took in the way their fingers were laced and their bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly. Syra imagined she would be small and thin and awkward in Arik's arms compared to the swelling curves of this woman.

She pulled the letter from her pack and tossed it so it landed on the woman's chest. She awoke immediately, eyes flickering to where Syra perched. When Syra saw her search around for a weapon, she held out her hands, showing she was unarmed.

"I am not here to cause you harm, Dragonborn."

The Dragonborn moved to sit up, taking the paper in her hand, but not opening it. Arik stirred beside her and awoke as well, jumping at the sight of a Dark Brotherhood agent at the end of his bed.

"What's going on?" He asked, sitting up as well. Syra felt tears well in her eyes at the sound of his voice. That was a voice she thought she would never hear again. Had he not taken vows of silence?

"What do you want, assassin?" The woman asked coldly.

"I come to warn you against the woman named Delphine."

"Who sent you?"

Syra shook her head and gestured to the letter. "I was asked to bring you that letter."

The redhead opened the letter and began to read. She was sure her face went white, but Syra couldn't take her eyes off of Arik who was staring at her with an open mouth.

"What is this?" The Dragonborn folded the letter and set it down as if it had burnt her.

"I am to tell you that Delphine has aligned herself with the Imperials. She plans to turn you over to them to use as a tool against your Uncle."

" _What_?"

She shrugged. "To find the proof you need, go to the Sleeping Giant Inn. There is a secret room below the bar that holds the answers you seek."

Syra jumped backwards from the bed and hurried towards the window. Before she jumped out, she looked back at them.

"Remember, Dragonborn, that it was the Brotherhood who helped you. You also, Arik." She leapt out the window and back down the ground, taking off even though her heart was screaming at her not to.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik awoke to the sound of a foreign voice ringing in his ears. Fina shifted beside him, and he felt her body stiffen with surprise. When he came to his senses, he looked up to see a small black figure sitting precariously at the end of the bed.

"What's going on?" He looked between Fina and the intruder. The fact that Fina was not attacking was the only thing that kept him still and quiet.

He watched as Fina read the letter, seeing her face flush and her hand tremble on the paper. Under the blanket his hand moved to rest on her leg, but she only glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She cast the letter aside and stared at the stranger.

_Delphine?_  At first Arik was unsure of the name, but then it came rushing back. The Blade - the one who told Fina she had to kill Paarthurnax. The one who had started this trouble. Arik readily believed that she was a traitor. In fact, that might make the whole thing easier for him to come to terms with.

Realising the thought was selfish, he pushed it aside.

"I am to tell you that Delphine has aligned herself with the Imperials. She plans to turn you over to them to use as a tool against your Uncle." As the stranger spoke again, something about her voice caught in Arik's memory. Had he heard it before? It was something he couldn't quite place. Perhaps it was from a dream, rather than a memory.

" _What_?" Fina responded, clearly shocked by the accusation.

The black-clothed girl shrugged. "To find the proof you need, go to the Sleeping Giant Inn. There is a secret room below the bar that holds the answers you seek."

As she said it, the girl leapt off the bed and towards the window. He was surprised by her nimble speed and gracefulness. It was obviously something she had been carefully trained in.

"Remember, Dragonborn, that it was the Brotherhood who helped you. You also, Arik." She jumped out the window, leaving Arik with his own name ringing in his ears. He found the familiarity with which she said it haunting. How had she even known who he was? How had she known where Fina would be, and that Arik would be with her? He shivered, and turned to look at Fina.

She had a stricken look across her face.

He gestured to the letter and she nodded her consent. Arik picked it up and read through it.

_Toriah,_

_Thank you for your most recent letter. The information will be of great use to the Blades._

_We have gotten news the Greybeards have been training the Dragonborn. My contacts reported that they've sent her to Ustengrav, as we suspected. I will intercept her there and have her meet with me._

_We can't let the old fools get too strong of a grip on her, or she will be too difficult to manipulate._

_I will keep you updated on my progress. Please destroy this letter once you've read it._

_\- D_

Now he understood her upset. This letter was clearly from Delphine to what he assumed was an Imperial. He folded it and set it back down, turning to Fina to wait for her to speak.

**F I N A**

* * *

"Talos guide me." Fina rubbed at her eyes, feeling suddenly very old and tired. So, Delphine was playing her? She remembered how the new recruit Harlen had looked a bit Imperial. How he had mentioned he was 'assigned' to the Blades and the hasty way he'd tried to explain away what was now evidently a slip.

Was Esbern in on it too, or was he just another tool?

Fina growled under her breath, and tugged at her hair so hard that Arik reached up to stop her.

" _Fina_ ," He said urgently, as if he had just realised something. "Delphine is with your Uncle now, isn't she?"

She felt the colour drain from her face and was immediately on her feet, sputtering a dozen different curses as she hurriedly began to dress. Arik followed suit, donning his new civilian clothing.

When Fina finished dressing, she strapped on her sword and bow. She looked at Arik, who looked so small and lost in the wake of her rage that part of her wanted to sit him down and hold him.

_There is no time for his fear._  She told herself.

"Arik." Fina said softly, coming to stand before him. "We are going to need to move quickly. It will be hard for you, I have no doubt. But we must make haste."

He nodded, seeming to gather himself from his previously pathetic state. She wished she could smile at him, but her thoughts were so dark that she couldn't find the light within her to do it.

Fina leaned up and gave him a firm kiss, glad he was there despite the fact he likely would slow her down.

"We'll make our way to Riverwood - my Uncle will need proof." She said, pulling back and finding the dagger she bought for him. She pressed it into his hand. "Just in case."

He nodded, and she could feel his nerves from where she stood. Fina took his hand and pulled him from the room. She imagined the quickest and easiest way for them both would be on horseback. If yesterday was anything to go by, Arik would be treacherously slow on foot.

They purchased two horses. Fina took a proud looking bronze stallion and gave Arik a soft-tempered mare, considering he had not ridden before. They saddled up and were on the road within the hour.

**xxxxx**

The going was slower than Fina had hoped, but Arik didn't complain, even though she was certain he would be riddled with saddle sores by the end of the day. She herself had not ridden for too long and could feel her thighs chaffing.

By the time they reached Riverwood, Arik was grey and looked like he might fall right off his horse. Fina helped him down, looking him over with worry.

"Are you well?" She asked, resting the back of her hand across his brow. He waved her off.

"I'm fine." Arik shook his head and started towards the inn, his legs moving somewhat awkwardly. Fina sighed and followed after him.

Surprisingly, the place was empty save for the barkeeper. He looked up and grinned at them.

"Hello, travellers!"

Fina didn't have time to try and talk it out of him. "You have a secret room below the bar. I need to see it. I would appreciate your cooperation, but if you make things difficult for me, I will need to resort to less favourable measures."

She strode towards him, hand resting purposefully on the hilt of her sword. The barkeeper looked entirely unsure of himself, mouth open and body unmoving.

"Well?" Fina barked, raising her brows at him in question. He jumped to movement, stupidly pointing a finger to the room on the right which Fina recognised to be Delphine's own room. "Secret door in the wardrobe."

She nodded, and gestured for Arik to stay put. "If he tries to go for help, kill him." She drew her sword and handed it to him. She could see his shock, but he accepted the sword and held it pointed at the barkeeper.

It's easy to open the false back to a wardrobe if you know what you're looking for. She slid it open and found stairs leading down. She grabbed a candle off of the bedside table and found a torch on the wall halfway down. She lit it and left the candle on the step behind her. Down the stairs was a small room with many chests, books, and a table in the middle with a map spread across it.

The map indicated several locations, Ustengrav, Sky Haven Temple, and dozens of Imperial and - much to her dismay - Stormcloak camp locations.

She couldn't tell much from the map alone, so she set to work searching the bookcase. She found books on the Blades, Dragonlore, and even the Greybeards but nothing at all incriminating.

Heaving a sigh, she turned to one of the chests and started to rummage through it.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik didn't know this side of Fina. It seemed so foreign to him to see her speak so harshly - to threaten someone. She wouldn't actually hurt this man, would she? He felt like a husk of himself.

When she turned to him and gave him the sword, he accepted it, hoping that he could feign the same sort of stoicness that Fina portrayed. He held the sword up and alert trying carefully to mold his features into something resembling control.

The barkeeper stared at him and Arik stared back. If this man tried to do anything, would Arik be able to do as Fina said? Did she even truly expect him to?

After what seemed like a small eternity, Fina returned with a bundle of paper tucked under her arm. She took the sword back from Arik, and he surrendered it gratefully.

Without so much as a look at the barkeeper, she turned and walked out of the inn. Arik followed after her. His legs felt like they would slip out from under him at any moment.

As they came back to the horses, Fina untied a waterskin from her stallion's saddle and passed it to him. He took several long drinks before passing it back. He was finding it hard to think, hard to look at Fina. Everything that was happening felt so unreal, like a story playing out before his eyes that he had no control over.

Fina had seemed so cold inside the inn. She had threatened a man before he'd even caused her reason to.

"Arik?" Her fingers were warm on his cheek and he felt suddenly dizzy. Fina sighed. "I'm sorry that we're moving so quickly. But we need get to my Uncle before Delphine does something…I'm afraid I can't afford to stop again until we reach Windhelm."

When his mind stilled again, Arik opened his eyes and blinked at her. She was soft and gentle again. His Fina was back, her eyes full of concern.

"What did you find?" He gestured to the bundle of paper she held.

"Letters, and lots of them. She has been communicating with the Imperials for months. Even Tullius himself!"

"Then you have your proof?"

"Aye."

He nodded wordlessly and let her help him onto the horse, feeling entirely useless that he couldn't even get on by himself.

_What kind of man can't mount his own horse?_

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra was beyond exhausted when she finally arrived back in Falkreath. She'd only gotten as far as Whiterun before she'd decided to steal some civilian clothing and hire a carriage the rest of the way. She had been temporarily tempted to stop into Riverwood to check if they had taken her warning seriously, but she knew no good would come of it. Seeing Arik had been painful enough as it was.

When she pushed open the door to the Sanctuary, her only thoughts were of her bed. Syra's eyelids were heavy as iron ingots and her movements seemed noisy and slow, as if she were made partly of wood.

It wasn't until she was walking by the pool in the training room that she realised something wasn't quite right. Syra tried to muster her attentions, which only partially helped her to be more alert.

She started towards her room, but froze in the hallway. Cicero was there, giggling and bouncing from foot to foot, clapping his hands in time as if it were some sort of deranged dance.

"Secrets, secrets Sweet Mother! The girl has kept many secrets!"

It was as if ice was running through her veins. Beyond Cicero, Astrid stepped into the doorway of her room with Syra's journal in her hands.

Syra was not fooled by Astrid's calm exterior.

"What are you doing?" She finally managed to blurt out, and Astrid's eyes flashed dangerously.

"What am  _I_  doing, Syra?" Astrid took a few slow steps forward. "What am  _I_  doing?"

Syra could feel herself shrink backwards.

"What is this?" She threw the book at Syra, who barely managed to catch it. The tension was so thick in the air that she was worried she'd choke on it.

Cicero continued to bounce, but his giggling had stopped and so the only noise was the jingling of the bells on his jester's hat.

"I've been dreaming…" She wasn't sure how to find the right words. Syra swallowed and tried again. "I've been dreaming of the Night Mother. I thought they were just dreams...but then the names started to match the ones…"

" _Which_  ones?"

_Deep breath._  "The ones I found in your desk."

Astrid's voice dripped acid as she stepped so close to Syra that she could feel her body heat. Syra refused to break eye contact, despite her body's natural reaction to the deadly look in the Speaker's eyes.

"I should kill you where you stand."

Syra wished the Night Mother was with her then.

As she thought it, she could feel the gentle touch of the Night Mother's fingers on her shoulders, brushing through her hair. There was a whisper in her ear.

_Tell her you have my protection, my sweet. Tell her you are my Listener._

"You can't kill me, Astrid." Her voice sounded more confident than she had thought it would. "You can't kill the Listener."

Astrid lost her cool. "You are not the Listener! You are a  _child_!" Syra felt flecks of spit hit her face as Astrid shouted.

Syra smiled. "Yes I am."

Cicero had stopped moving behind them, and his stillness was so uncharacteristic that she wondered if he'd been paralyzed.

In a flash, Astrid had Syra pressed back against the frigid stone wall, a dagger pressed against her throat.

"You are not the Listener, do you understand me?"

_Cicero is loyal to us, darling Syra. Astrid will listen to him._

"Cicero." Syra looked beyond Astrid's dagger, ignoring the hot stream of blood she could feel dripping down her neck.

The Keeper was beside them immediately.

"Its true, I am the Listener. The Night Mother has been visiting me in my dreams. She speaks to me even now."

"Quiet!" Astrid pressed the dagger harder and Syra gritted her teeth against the pain, knowing that if Astrid pressed much harder, she could easily kill her.

Cicero moved quickly and with surprisingly strength. He threw Astrid off of her, letting the dagger fall to the ground with a clang. He kicked it down the hall, and stood with his back to Syra, blocking Astrid from getting back at her.

"If the Sweet Mother truly speaks with the girl, how many times did Mother and Cicero see the moon on their journey from the Cheydinal Sanctuary?"

_Sixty-three._

"Sixty-three." Syra repeated, staring at Cicero's back.

At her words, the jester began to laugh again. It started as a tiny jittering giggle in his chest, but quickly escalated to a full broad bellowing guffaw.

"The Listener, Sweet Mother, the Listener!" He bounced and pointed a finger at Astrid. "Cicero will protect the Listener with his life!" He said it merrily, but Syra recognised the threat as plainly as Astrid did.

"This is not over." The Speaker spat at him and glared at Syra, but she did retreat down the hall and out of sight.

Syra felt herself relax and touched at the blood on her neck. Cicero turned to her and carefully wiped away the blood with his sleeve. She tried not to flinch away from his touch.

"Don't worry, dear Listener. Cicero is here."

Syra could swear she almost saw a flicker of sanity in his eyes.

 


	14. Vokun and Krein

**F I N A**

* * *

They were only few minutes out of Riverwood when the shadow of a dragon crossed their path. Of all the things that could have happened on their journey, this was the worst.

Fina swore, pulling her stallion to a stop. Arik reined in beside her, following her gaze into the sky.

_It's like I attract the damn things._

She swung off of the horse, motioning for Arik to do the same.

"Take the horses and hide in the mouth of that cave. Stay there. Do not move until I come back for you." Her words were short and she didn't spare him another look. She drew bow and readied it, chasing after the line of the shadow.

The horses pranced nervously, but Arik did as she said.

Finally, the beast turned to face Fina, shooting an icy blast straight for her. She used her Fire Breath back at it, wishing desperately she knew more Shouts - she would have to find more Word Walls.

" _YOL TOOR SHUL_!" Each time she Shouted, it was a little bit easier and she was more stable on her feet. The feeling was exhilarating.

Her Shout was quickly succeeded by three of her arrows, each aimed for the dragon's head. The creature beat its wings, and only one of the arrows even made it close to it's mark. Fina cursed, and dropped into a roll as it aimed its icy breath at her again.

The ground shook as it landed, drawing itself towards her by the talons on it's winged arms. Fina shot another arrow for its head, and it hit the dragon's nostril. It cried out in angry pain and lunged for her. Fina backed up as quickly as she could - until she felt her back hit a wall of rock.

_Shite._

The dragon was too close for her bow to be of any use, and so she had no choice but to draw her sword. She slashed at the dragon, narrowly missing as it tossed its head side to side. If he chose to Shout ice at her again, she would undoubtedly be killed.

Gathering her strength, Fina crouched and then drove her sword forwards and up, using the momentum from her legs springing up to fuel the attack.

Her sword met its mark, easily slicing through the soft underside of the dragon's throat and up through the top of its snout. Blood spurted from it, spraying her face and armour. Fina gagged, tasting it in her mouth. She pulled her sword free and the dragon collapsed at her feet.

Again, she felt the sadness welling inside of her as the fallen creature's soul joined with her own. Fina leaned back against the rock, using it for support while her legs nearly shook themselves out from beneath her.

She had just sheathed her sword when she heard Arik's frightened cry for her.

**A R I K**

* * *

He watched as the dragon landed before Fina, heard its roar and could feel the cold spray of its breath from where he stood. When the dragon advanced, Arik lost sight of her behind a shield of solid rock.

The horses danced from leg to leg, nickering to each other, their eyes wide and rolling in their heads. Arik tried to soothe them the best he could, rubbing at their cheeks and noses. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never seen a dragon before.

It was bigger than he had imagined and something else he hadn't expected was for the strong smell that accompanied them. It was reminiscent of swamp water mixed with ground up bones.

Just as he heard the dragon cry out in - what he hoped was - pain, there were voices from within the cave. Arik tried not to panic. He pulled the horses with him, heading towards a boulder he hoped would be large enough to hide them all from sight.

"What's all that noise?"

"Could it be a dragon?"

The voices were closer now, no doubt outside of the cave. He felt their eyes on his back and knew he was damned.

"Well, well...What have we here, Matto? A little peasant bringing us a gift of horses?"

"Fina horses at that, Yatto."

Arik turned slowly, staring at the two men who had emerged. They were bandits, judging by their attire, and twins at that. Both of them were giants with massive shoulders and legs big as tree trunks. Their heads were shaved clean, making it nearly impossible to tell them apart.

"Don't be shy, boy. Bring us our gift!"

"One for you and one for me, Matto."

"Yes indeed, Yatto. One for each." They grinned at him, and the one named Matto drew his dagger, twirling it in his fingers. He lifted it to his mouth, using the tip of the blade to pick at his jagged yellow teeth.

Yatto strode towards him, hefting the warhammer from his back to balance it across his shoulder.

"Not going to give us any trouble, are you, boy?" Yatto said and as he drew closer, Arik could smell the sickly sweet stench of Skooma on him. It was a smell he was familiar with from his days in Whiterun - there were a few of the beggars who were fond of the stuff.

He wasn't sure what to do exactly, but he knew he was useless in a fight. Surely they'd kill him, even if he did hand over the horses. Horses that he and Fina desperately needed to reach Windhelm with any haste.

"FINA!" He yelled, hoping his tone leaned more towards urgency than panic.

The bandit looked back over his shoulder. "See who this 'Fina' is, will you Matto?"

"Already on it, Yatto."

While the man had looked away, Arik took off at a run, giving each of the horses a smack so they took off on their own. He dropped the reins, hoping blindly they'd be able to find them again.

Behind him, Yatto gave a yell and he heard his thundering footsteps as he was pursued.

"Keep running, Arik!" Fina's voice spurred him on, and he picked up his pace. His body protested angrily to the quick movements, legs stiff and sore from the riding.

Yatto caught up more easily than he had expected and he chanced a look back to see that the bandit was swinging his warhammer for Arik's legs. It was too late to avoid the attack.

The hammer caught his right leg, and although the head of the weapon didn't make contact, the long handle caught across his shin, tripping him and sending him sprawling face-first into the dirt. He slid across the ground, mouthing filling with grit, pine needles, and rotting leaves.

Arik rolled over, spreading his legs in time to miss the blow Yatto had aimed for his knees. He started to desperately claw his way backwards, away from his attacker.

Yatto cackled with laughter, standing over Arik and spraying him with foul spittle. He had never experienced fear like this, not ever. Would he die here, at this man's hand?

The bandit raised the warhammer over his head, gripping it with both hands. He swung, and Arik slid his eyes closed, waiting for the blow.

Instead, he heard Yatto gasp. There was the squelch of a blade cutting through meat. Arik opened his eyes to see the hammer dropping beside him. Blood sputtered from the man's mouth, dripping down onto Arik's chest.

Fina withdrew her blade from Yatto's back, and the man fell straight forward, landing on Arik with a crunch.

Arik cried out, panicking and shoving at the body. Fina kicked him over easily. The wound hadn't killed Yatto, not yet. Red life bubbled from his lips, eyes staring blindly into the sky as his body twitched and spasmed, mouth forming soundless words.

Fina stood over him and without hesitation, hoisted her blade and plunged it straight down through his heart. Arik watched the life leave Yatto, saw the way his body fell still and his eyes went blank. He turned to the side and wretched, heaving up what little his stomach had held.

She had just killed him. Just like that. Just like it was nothing. Like he was a practise dummy.

 _No._  Arik told himself.  _She was saving your life, you fool. She is a soldier. That is what soldiers do._

Still, he had seen a whole other side to Fina over the last several days. One he hadn't even expected to exist.

She crouched beside him, wiping her blade clean absently on Yatto's cloak. Arik looked at her face; it bore no plain emotion, but she was covered in gore. He resisted the urge to vomit again. When she returned his gaze, he snapped back to reality.

"Are you okay?"

Arik nodded, pulling himself to his feet and away from the body. "I let the horses go." He said, staring at the ground.

"We'll find them." She replied, standing up to sheath her sword.

Arik found his eyes drawn back towards the cave, seeing Matto's body there, one arm severed clean off. Fina followed his gaze, but then suddenly she jerked to attention again.

"There's more of them." She hissed, and gestured for him to hide. Arik saw what she meant - four more bandits had poured from the cave, no doubt wondering where the twins had gone. He stole himself and hurried for the rock he had been trying to reach the first time, ducking behind it.

Arik peeked out from behind the rock, watching as Fina charged the men. She had the element of surprise on her side, it seemed, because she swung her sword and cleaved a woman's head clean off. Arik was violently sick again, but there was nothing left but bile.

The three remaining bandits - two men and another woman - cried out in anger and raced for her. Fina parried one blow, while kicking one of them men in the chest and sending him crashing back into the side of the mountain. He hit his head and sunk to the ground.

Fina backed up enough from the other two that she could Shout at them, her Voice shaking the trees around them and sending birds from their nests and into the skies.

" _FUS RO DAH_!"

The two stumbled backwards and fell, giving Fina enough time to grab her bow. She stepped backwards, aiming arrows at the bandits and hitting each of them in the chest. The man fell back and didn't move to rise again - apparently the arrow had hit his heart.

The woman, however, took the hit closer to her shoulder and so continued to advance on Fina, undetered. She dropped her bow and reached for her sword, the two hitting back and forth, back and forth. Fina struck, the bandit blocked. The bandit struck, Fina blocked.

Finally, Fina was able to catch the woman, slicing her sword across her stomach. She fell to her knees, clutching at the wound as her guts spilled through her fingers. Arik couldn't watch. He turned his head away, but as his line of vision moved, he saw the bandit who had hit his head getting to his feet.

Fina was readying herself to deliver a killing blow to the woman. She would never see him coming.

Instinct took over and Arik darted out from his hiding place. He rushed towards the man, grabbing a large, jagged rock he saw on the way.

The bandit raised his axe to swing at Fina's back, just as she was plunging her sword through the woman's chest. Arik got there before he could follow through, raising his hands and giving a shrieking cry as he bashed the man in the back of the head with the rock.

When the man continued to stand, Arik brought the rock up and hit him again. And again. The man fell to the ground and yet Arik didn't let up. His mind had been swallowed by his fear and his rage. He dropped to his knees beside the fallen man, bringing the rock down over and over, crushing his skull until his entire face was nothing but an unrecognisable mess of bone, blood, and brains. Even still, he continued until he felt Fina's hand on his shoulder.

"Arik!" Arik realised that he was crying, his face was wet and hot from the mixture of bandit-blood and tears.

He swung again, but Fina caught his arm and ripped the crimson-soaked rock from his hands. She tossed it aside, pulling Arik to his feet and up, away from the body.

Arik had no control over himself and he only got a few steps before he fell again, entire body jittering as if he had been doused in ice water. His hands were covered in blood, and he sat there, staring at them.

"No, no, no, no, nonono." His voice rose to a wail and the ground shook around them at the sound of it.

Fina knelt before him and he could see her lips moving as if she were speaking, but none of the words were making it to his ears.

 _Did I just kill a man?_  He wondered.  _You did more than kill him._  A foreign voice responded from the back of his mind.  _You_ destroyed _him._

There was a hard sting and his head was thrown sideways. His vision cleared and he was aware of the sounds around him again. Birds. The wind through the trees. His own sobbing. Fina's quick breath.

She had just slapped him. That's what had brought him back.

Fina grabbed his chin somewhat roughly, forcing him to look at her. Her face was still covered in blood, but he suspected his was as well, judging by the amount of blood on his hands and clothing.

"Arik." Her voice was soft, but tight. She lifted the edge of her cloak and started to wipe at his face. He was disturbed by how quickly it turned the cloth red.

"I just killed a man."

"You just saved my life." She responded, gripping his shoulder firmly.

It hit him then that Fina had almost died. He had stopped that from happening. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and he leaned forward to clutch at her, feeling her arms circle around him and hold him.

**F I N A**

* * *

She had no idea what to do. Arik was clinging to her, sobbing. She was worried that he wouldn't be able to travel on, that they'd have to stop for the night.

"It's okay." She whispered into his hair. "Its over now. Shh." Fina pulled him closer and rocked back and forth like you would do to calm a child.

She hadn't realised until now just how little of the world Arik had truly seen. He had not been raised on bloodshed and warriorship. He had had his nose stuck in books and played with toys, not swords.

When his crying subsided, Fina pulled back from him. She wiped at her own face, clearing it - she hoped - of blood.

"Come on." She stood up, hooking an arm under his shoulders to pull him up too. She didn't bother stopping to comb through the bandits pockets for gold like she normally would. That was the last thing Arik needed to see; he likely already thought her a monster.

She walked him to the side of the road and helped him sit with his back against a tree.

"I'm going to look for the horses. Stay here, okay?"

Arik stared forlornly at his red hands, making no reply.

"Okay?" Fina pressed again. Finally, he nodded his head. "I won't be far, call for me if you need me."

She turned back towards the cave and collected her bow, slinging it over her shoulder. She started towards the road, praying to Talos that the horses hadn't gone far. Not only did they carry all of their supplies, but also the letters that she needed as evidence against Delphine.

Luckily, they hadn't made it far. The mare's reins had gotten caught around a tree, and the stallion had stayed with her. She collected them and walked back up the road to Arik.

He still stared at his hands. Fina sighed and tied the horses to a tree, grabbing her waterskin in the process. She bent down beside Arik.

"Hold out your hands." He did as she said, and she carefully poured water over them, using a clean edge of her cloak to scrub at them. Eventually, they were mostly clean - only slightly more pink than was usual.

"Drink." She passed him the waterskin and he took a few small sips. Fina knew he had thrown up all of the food he'd eaten, so she also passed him a couple strips of dried meat. He chewed at them like a well-oiled Dwemer machine - emotionless and methodical.

Fina knew now that they had to stay the night. There was no way that Arik could continue in this state.

She got him to his feet again and untied the horses, starting towards the cave. Luckily, Arik followed her without complaint, but his gaze stayed as far from the bodies as possible.

The mouth of the cave was wide and tall and despite her worries, the horses followed her inside without a fuss. There was no way they could leave them outside unattended.

"I need to make sure we're alone." She told Arik, tying the horses to a metal ring in the stone wall that she assumed had once been used to chain up prisoners. She shivered at the thought.

Inside, it appeared that the cave was all one big chamber. She hoped that was true, as she wasn't anxious to search through a labyrinth.

There was a fire roaring in the middle of the cave, a pot of stew fiercely bubbling over it. There were bedrolls spread around the fire and she counted six of them, the same number of bandits they'd killed.

Fina kicked around, checking all of the walls but to her relief there were no other exits. She started to look through their supplies, finding barrels with apples, cabbages, potatoes, and carrots. They would be able to replenish their packs here.

She also found several health and stamina potions which she grabbed. When she made it back to Arik, he was sitting stiffly in a chair near the entrance that had likely been used by whoever was on watch.

She touched his shoulder, and he flinched away from the touch. Fina tried to hide the hurt she felt. Would he think differently of her, now he'd seen her kill? She dreaded the thought.

"Drink this." She passed him one of the stamina potions, and downed one herself. Immediately she felt better, more refreshed. She rolled her shoulders back, hearing her back and neck crack as she did.

Fina set to work unsaddling the horses and giving them a rub down, as their poor bodies were chilled with cold sweat. She took two nearby buckets and filled them with water from a barrel, setting them before the horses so they could drink their fill.

"Come on, theres hot food here."

Arik stood up and followed her to the fire. Everything had been ready - the bandits even had their bowls out and ready to be filled. She swallowed and gave a sniff to the stew. It didn't smell overly interesting, but it was hot and thick and her stomach grumbled at the thought of it.

She stripped off her sword, and bow settling them down on one of the bedrolls. Next she relieved herself of her heavy armour and sat beside the fire.

Arik pulled off his cloak, and looked down at himself to see he was covered in blood. Fina was worried he was going to be sick again, so she got up and rummaged in his pack until she found the second set of clothing she'd bought him.

He accepted it and she turned her back to him while he changed, deciding to dish them both out some stew. When he was clean, she passed him one of the bowls and then tugged the cork out of a bottle of Firebrand wine with her teeth. She took a swig of it and then passed it to Arik, who downed several gulps, grimacing at the taste.

They ate in silence, warming themselves by the fire. Fina wouldn't even know what to say to him. His eyes had such a haunted look to them and after the way he had flinched away from her touch…

She swallowed.  _He won't want me anymore. Not now._

"I'd never seen a dead body before."

His voice startled her from her thoughts and she looked up at him. "No?"

Arik shook his head, setting his half-finished bowl aside and reaching for the wine again. He drank for a long time, and Fina worried he would make himself sick.

Finally, he looked at her. "We were so naive, weren't we?" He gestured between the two of them, and Fina knew he meant about their feelings for each other and the way they had acted on them.

She looked down, wishing she could reverse time and save him all of this trouble. "Yes, probably."

Arik nodded, his face blank. Without another word, he turned his back to her and pulled the furs of the sleeping roll up around him.

Fina felt like someone had their fist clenched around her heart. She drank some more of the wine, and then carried some apples and carrots over to the horses. She stood between them, leaning her cheek against the stallion's side and taking comfort in the gentle hum of his body.

"I'll name you  _Vokun_ , Shadow," She stroked the stallion, "And you  _Krein_ , Sun." She looked at the mare as she chewed an apple. "Do you like those names?"

The mare nickered softly and nudged Fina's hand with her nose. Fina laughed and cried at the same time, feeling like nothing would ever be right again.

**xxxxx**

Fina awoke before Arik to see sun streaming in the mouth of the cave. They'd slept too late. She hoisted herself out of the sleeping roll, her entire body screaming at her in pain. She groaned, stretching herself out. She reached for the bottle of wine and took several swallows, hoping the alcohol would help loosen her muscles.

Arik stirred and his eyes fluttered open, finding her. For a moment there was a smile in his eyes, but then it changed to sharp realisation of where they were and what had happened.

Fina looked away, not able to contain the look of hurt that had taken over her features. She began to strap on her armour.

"We need to go."

He nodded and got up to pull on his cloak. Fina readied the horses after giving them more food and water. Outside, the bodies of the fallen bandits had quite clearly been the meal of wolves. They were torn to shreds, bits of skin and sinew and bone strewn across the forest floor in an unsolvable puzzle.

The smell of rot had already begun to settle in, and they wasted no time in mounting and starting down the road.

**xxxxx**

It took them three days to reach Windhelm. They stopped to rest once more, but they couldn't afford any more than that. They downed any stamina potions they found until they both felt barely alive. Neither of them really talked, and when they did it was only about the present moment. Nothing about the bandits, the Greybeards, their feelings, or even Ulfric.

Fina had never been so happy to see her home as she was then. Although it was bitterly cold, there was some comfort in that - for both her and Arik, who was used to the harsh climate of High Hrothgar.

There were cries of joy as the people saw Fina, cheering her on. The man at the stables agreed to take care of the horses for them, blatantly refusing the coin Fina offered him in return.

"Anything for you, Norfina Stormcloak." He grinned and she thanked him warmly.

They made all haste to the Palace of the Kings and Fina burst through the doors like a woman on fire, bundle of letters clutched to her chest.

Ulfric sat at the long table and beside him, laughing, was Delphine.

 


	15. Lost Mittens

**F I N A**

* * *

The room went silent as she entered, and Ulfric stood up, squinting across at her like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"Fina?" They hurried towards each other, and before she knew it she was caught up in his arms.

"Uncle." She sighed in relief, pulling back to look at him.

"What are you doing here?" He held her by the shoulders, face full of confusion. "You look ill. What's happened?" Arik shifted nervously behind her.

She spared a glance over Ulfric's shoulder to Delphine, who was smiling. She clearly had no idea what Fina was about to do.

"Could we speak in private, Uncle? Please." The smile on Delphine's face faltered a little.

"Of course, of course." He put an arm around her shoulders, leading her down the hall and towards his battle room on the left.

"Is everything alright?" Delphine asked, standing up. The smile was bright on her face again, forcefully so. "It's a nice surprise to see you, Fina."

"I'm sure." Fina smiled back, but her voice was tight.

"Fina just wants a word with me, if you'll excuse us for a moment."

"Of course, Jarl Ulfric." Delphine sat back down, looking from Arik to Fina and back.

Fina gestured for Arik to follow them into the side room. Galmar was already there, leaning over the map and stroking his beard, deep in thought.

"Well, well, our Dragonborn has returned!" He boomed when they entered, a broad smile stretching across his face.

"Hello, Galmar."

"So tell me, what's happened, niece?"

"It's Delphine, Uncle." She whispered. "I have evidence that she is aligned with the Imperials and has been using us - me, as the Dragonborn, and you as the leader of the Stormcloaks."

Ulfric's face went instantly somber and he sized her up, clearly skeptical of the idea. "That is a very serious accusation, Fina."

"I would not make it if I didn't have these." She pushed the bundle of letters into his hands. "We found these in her home in Riverwood."

Ulfric opened one of the letters and passed another one to Galmar. They both bent to read. The Jarl's face grew red and she could see the anger brewing. Galmar swore and took another letter, scanning it as well.

"She's been planning this all along. This letter even details how they plan to blackmail Fina into working for the Imperial bastards!" Galmar thundered.

Ulfric turned on his heel, clutching the letters so tightly they crumpled in his fist. He stormed back into the main hall.

Delphine was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she!" He roared at the guards who stood near the doors.

"Lady Delphine?" One of them asked him stupidly.

"Yes,  _Lady Delphine_!"

"She left, Jarl Ulfric. Just out the main doors." The guard gestured.

"Go after her! Catch her and bring her to me. Go now, alert all of the guards!" He snapped at them.

Galmar left with the guards, barking orders at them as he went.

Fina sunk onto one of the benches and leaned her back against the table, feeling entirely forlorn.

"I shouldn't have told you in private."

Ulfric shook his head and came to sit beside her, taking her small hands in his. "How did you learn of this?"

Fina was aware of Arik fidgeting uncertainly at the edge of her vision and when she glanced at him, she found him gazing around the room warily.

"Come and sit down, Arik." She told him. He hesitated, but did as she said and sat down beside her.

Fina turned back to her Uncle, unsure of where to begin. "So much has happened since Markarth."

Fina told him everything, starting from when she left Markarth, to meeting Paarthurnax and the vision he showed her of the Blades. Ulfric had been shocked at the existence of Paarthurnax, never having heard the Greybeards mention a leader, let alone a dragon.

She continued on to her return to Sky Haven Temple, her visit with Delphine before she left for Windhelm, and her suspicions when she met Harlen. When she told him that Delphine had threatened her when Fina was reluctant to agree to kill Paarthurnax, he protectively tightened his grip on her hands.

"I have been so blind, my dear." He sighed. "I was so sure the Divines were tipping things in my direction that I was quick to believe that the Blades were sent by the Nine."

Fina was dreading to retell the next part of the story, but she did it anyway. She told of her return to High Hrothgar and her intentions to kill the dragon. Before she could proceed, she looked at Arik.

His eyes met hers, and he gave her the smallest of nods. She smiled gratefully at him and then turned to Ulfric, who was looking between the two of them in confusion.

"I went out that night, set on killing Paarthurnax." Fina shivered at the memory. "But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was so distressed, Uncle. I could hardly think straight and I had been pushing myself too hard. Especially after the dragon attack in Rorikstead. I was nearly delirious."

Ulfric reached up to smooth some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Fina swallowed the lump in her throat before she carried on. "Before I continue, I should introduce you to Arik. He is...was," She corrected herself. "The Greybeards' apprentice."

"Was?" Ulfric prompted.

Fina turned to Arik, watching him as she spoke. He returned her gaze, his eyes steady.

"Arik found me outside, collapsed in the snow. I realised that I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill Paarthurnax. It didn't feel right to me. When I first arrived at High Hrothgar for my training, Arik and I became friends. He couldn't speak to me, so he wrote his responses instead. When Arngeir caught us, he forbade it." Fina tore her eyes from Arik and glanced back at Ulfric.

"I suppose he thought it would interfere with Arik's training. So we stopped meeting." As she said it, the pain flashed back to her of the time they had said goodbye to each other in her room, before she went to get the horn. She remembered the light touch of his fingers and the way she had ached to be closer to him. As the thoughts crossed her mind, she freed one of her hands from Ulfric's and reached out to him.

To her immediate relief, Arik accepted her hand and held it in his lap.  _My two men._  She caught herself thinking.

_Snap out of it, Fina._

"We cared for each other, and so he listened to me that night when I told him all about the Blades and their request. We were...well, Arik was comforting me." She blushed a little as she said it, eyes darting down to look at her hand where Arik held it.

"Arngeir walked in and saw us. He'd heard everything. He exploded. He struck me, and Arik told him to stop. Between what Arngeir saw when he walked in, and Arik using his voice...he had broken both of the vows he made when he joined the Greybeards." She heard a sharp intake of air from Arik, as if she had reopened a wound.

"They told us both to leave and so we did. We spent the night in Ivarstead and were awoken by a Dark Brotherhood assassin."

"An  _assassin_?" Ulfric blanched.

"Aye, but it was strange. She was the one who told us about Delphine and where to find the letters."

"Who sent her?"

"She wouldn't say." Fina shrugged. "She just said to remember that it was the Brotherhood who helped us."

"That is very curious."

"We hurried to Riverwood and found the letters and then came straight here. I was worried we would be too late."

Fina and Arik both accepted a cup of wine from a servant.

Just then, Galmar burst through the doors.

"Did you find her?" Ulfric launched to his feet.

"No, my Jarl. We have found no sign of her. I very much doubt she is still within the city."

"She will have gone back to Sky Haven." Fina downed the wine and stood up. "Uncle, give me some men and I will go after her.

"You've only just arrived!" He protested.

"I'm the only one who knows how to get there."

Ulfric grunted, rubbing at his temples. He turned back to Galmar. "Have five of your finest men here and ready to go within the hour."

Galmar nodded, and hurried back outside.

"Fina, are you sure you are well enough? You look as if you already have a touch of death."

"We have no choice." She smiled reassuringly. "Besides, you have seen me go longer than this on stamina potions alone."

Ulfric nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Eat, and rest. Visit that ever-worrying mother of yours! You will leave in an hour."

Fina laughed. "I will, of course."

Much to her surprise, he turned to Arik and looked him up and down. Eventually, he offered his hand. Arik shook it hesitantly. "I wish we were meeting under happier circumstances, my boy. Will you stay and provide me with what information you can?"

Arik nodded. "I am at your service, Jarl Ulfric." His Voice had been steadily fading since leaving High Hrothgar, and he was grateful the walls didn't shake as he spoke.

"Good." He looked back to Fina, and gave her a quick hug. "Talos guide you, Norfina."

Ulfric gathered the letters and headed back to the battle room, no doubt planning to extract as much information on the Imperials and Blades as he could from them.

Fina turned back to Arik, feeling almost as if she were seeing him in a new light.

Her mouth opened, speaking before she could stop herself. "Did you mean what you said last night? That we were just naive?"

When he didn't respond right away, Fina continued, asking the question that was truly burning in her mind. "Have things changed now that you have seen me kill?"

Arik looked at her in stunned silence, mouth slightly open. "Fina -"

"I would understand if you...if your feelings have changed. I must seem barbaric to you." She looked at the ground. "Just know that my own are the same."

"The last week has been the worst of my life, Fina." Arik sighed and Fina felt herself tighten, waiting for him to deliver a killing blow with his words. "I need time to come to terms with what I've seen...what I've...what I've done." His voice cracked and she wondered if he was going to break down.

"You have been raised in this. I...I killed a man yesterday. I did more than kill him." The pure devastation in his voice was nearly enough to bring Fina to tears. "You know me enough to know that violence is not in my nature."

She nodded, looking back up at him again. She took a step closer, taking his hand. "That is something I admire about you." Fina paused. "Please don't think that killing is something I take lightly. I mourn for each soul that passes by my hands, dragon and human alike. But it is my duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves, however I can."

"I know it."

"Then you don't think me a monster?"

"Of course not!" He squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry that I have been so detached. It will take time for me to adjust."

"Don't apologise." Fina shook her head, leaning in to kiss his cheek. His thumb skirted over the back of her hand and she wanted nothing more than to curl up with him and sleep for days against his warmth.

"I need to prepare." She felt weary just saying the words. Fina reluctantly let go of Arik's hand and waved for a nearby servant.

She recognised the young man. His name was Morrin, if her memory served. He hurried over to them, eyes lit up and eager.

"Yes, my lady?"

"It's Morrin, isn't it?"

He bowed in response and she smiled fondly at him. "Please see that my friend is given a guest room and that a meal and hot bath are prepared for him."

"Of course, my lady." He bowed again and then turned to Arik. "If you will follow me, sir."

Arik gave her one last long look and she smiled at him. "Be safe." He murmured and then followed Morrin up the stairs.

**A R I K**

* * *

Upstairs, Morrin showed Arik to a small private room and then the boy left to fetch him some dinner. Arik pulled off his cloak, settling it across one of the chairs. He stood before the fire, arms crossed against his chest.

He tried desperately to clear his mind, to sink back into the peaceful meditation that Arngeir had pounded into him. It was nearly his second nature now.

But everytime he tried to focus in on his breathing, all he saw was the bandit's disfigured face and the bloody rock tumbling to the ground as Fina knocked it from his hands.

Arik was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear when Morrin returned with his meal. He didn't hear when two more servants brought in a washtub and filled it with hot water, and didn't hear when they closed the door and left him alone.

All he could see was blood coloured flames consuming bone-shaped logs. His body trembled, and he propped himself up on the mantle, leaning in on his arms.

Eventually, he realised that they'd brought a bath for him. He knew he was still covered in blood in places he hadn't even imagined he could be. Arik cringed at the thought and stripped down, crawling into the hot water. He scrubbed at himself until his entire body was raw and he'd nearly used an entire bar of soap.

Afterwards, he combed the wardrobe and found a set of trousers and a shirt that were only a little too big for him. He sat by the fire and poked at the food, but in the end he could only stomach a few chunks of roasted potato. Any of the meat just reminded him of…

_Stop._

Arik turned his chair towards the fire and leaned back, closing his eyes. Immediately, more images from the day flashed before his eyes. A severed head. Fina's sword plunging into Yatto's heart.

He plucked a bottle of wine from the table and pried out the cork.

 _Here's to never sleeping again._  Arik tipped up the bottle and took as many gulps as he could before he had to stop and breathe.

**S Y R A**

* * *

If Syra had thought Astrid was cold before, it was nothing compared to now. It seemed she took every opportunity to ridicule her, to point out her flaws in front of the others. She bore it with silence, knowing that in the end Astrid was just trying to cling to her position as their leader.

Syra was happy to let her do it - she was much more comfortable in the shadows, which contrasted sharply to the girl she used to be. She often pined for the days back at the orphanage with Arik and Ljorn and the others. She'd spent much of those years longing for a family to adopt her, when truly, she had had one all along.

Something else had changed since being discovered as the Listener - Cicero's behaviour. He acted almost as if he were her servant, always around and offering to clean her shroud, sharpen her dagger, mend her broken arrows, or bring her a meal. Syra, of course, denied his help.

Although it seemed he had taken Syra under his protection and stood up to Astrid on her behalf, she still wanted nothing to do with him.

Oddly enough, this didn't seem to deter him at all. If anything, it made him push harder. His behaviour was much harder for Syra to bare in silence than Astrid's, and it wasn't uncommon for her to swear at him or slam doors in his face.

Babette and Nazir had never been more amused.

The Night Mother continued to deliver her names, which she kept in the same journal. When the list grew to five, she decided to take it to Astrid.

The Speaker took the list from her and stared at it.

"I've already got these." She said dismissively, setting the paper aside.

Syra leaned forwards to look at Astrid's own list. It bore no less than thirteen names and only five of them were from the Night Mother.

"The Night Mother didn't assign these contracts." She said, running her finger down the list.

Astrid gave her a look which could have only been forged in Oblivion. "And?"

"Isn't it the Brotherhood's long running tradition to only take the contracts the Night Mother provides?"

"We have grown, Syra. We need more than five contracts a week to maintain our reputation."

"You don't trust our Mother to provide for us?" Syra said it plainly, trying carefully to keep any snideness from her voice.

Astrid stared at her, mouth drawn into a tight, thin line. Syra enjoyed watching her struggle for the right answer.

"You're only a child and so I don't expect you to understand the costs of our business. I recommend that you stick to the listening and let me stick to the speaking."

Her words burnt Syra with rage. "As you wish." She shrugged, keeping her frustration masked. Syra walked towards the door.

"And Syra?"

She looked back at Astrid.

"I know that I can't harm you, for the Mother's sake, but if you in any way undermine me again...Let's just say there are other ways I can hurt you."

Syra's fists clenched, but she continued out the door without a word. She would not grant Astrid the pleasure of a reaction.

**F I N A**

* * *

All she wanted to do was sleep, but that wasn't an option and wouldn't be for quite some time. If she couldn't get sleep, the next best thing would be for her to seek comfort.

Her feet found their own way out of the palace and down the cold grey streets of the city she loved. It only took her a few minutes to reach her childhood home. She stood outside, looking up at it and smiling fondly. It felt like years since she had seen it, but in reality it couldn't be much more than two months.

Before she could enter, the door cracked open and a woman stepped out. Her mother, Lenora, was a round woman, plump and curvaceous. The only thing not soft-looking about her were the same high cheekbones and sharp nose that Fina had. Her hair had once been the same bold red as her daughters, but over time it had changed to a silver-flecked rust.

"Fini!" She cried, opening her arms as Fina rushed into them. No embrace ever felt as wonderful as her mother's - even just her scent was nearly enough to bring happy tears to her eyes. "So the Dragonborn has decided to bless me with her company!"

"Hi, Mama." Fina clung to her for a moment longer before her mother pried her off, holding her at an arms length and looking her up and down.

"You look horrible." She said decidedly, pulling Fina inside the house and shutting the door behind them. "When did you last sleep?"

"I can't remember." She replied, sitting in her usual chair by the fire.

"You wear yourself too thin! And just look at the tangles in your hair." The woman huffed. She pressed a cup of tea into Fina's hand and then stood behind her, fussing over her hair. She untied the loose braid that hadn't been fixed for days and set to work combing through it with a deft hand.

Fina leaned into the touch, closing her eyes and sighing happily.

"Are you staying for long?"

"Unfortunately not. I leave in an hour."

"An hour!" Lenora clucked, tugging her way through an especially uncooperative knot. "What in Nirn could be so demanding?"

"It is an infinitely long story."

"I suppose you're going to have me wait and hear it from your Uncle?"

"It would take longer to tell than the time I have, Mama."

"Of course, of course." She sighed, finishing with the comb and carefully braiding her hair again. "Such beautiful hair. You've always had nicer hair than mine."

Fina snorted, having heard those words countless times since she was young. It was so overwhelmingly good to be here again, before the same fireplace she'd sat by since she was born and with the same woman who'd raised her by it.

She finished the tea in a few swallows and set the cup aside. "Do you have anything to eat?"

"Your appetite hasn't diminished, I see."

"Never."

She chuckled, moving to fix Fina a plate of cured sausage, bread, boiled carrots, and roast venison. Lenora handed the plate to her daughter, who wasted no time in devouring it's contents.

"Your Papa would be proud to see you inhale food at the same rate he did." She sunk into the chair beside Fina, stretching out her feet. "That man could finish an entire roast chicken in five bites, bones and all."

"And he could drink an entire flagon of ale in one giant gulp?"

"Aye. If ale was water, he'd have been a fish."

Fina couldn't help but laugh at that. She loved to hear stories about her Father. She knew now that her Mother added quite a bit of embellishment to them, but when she was younger she believed it was the truth.

As the brother of Ulfric Stormcloak, Fina's father, Ulgar, was a celebrated war hero. Everyone had always spoken so often and fondly of him that even though Fina was too young to have many memories of him, she had a very clear picture of what kind of man he had been. His death was a painful loss, but the way his life was retold kept the thought of him a happy one.

"Where are the mittens I made for you?"

"Mama!"

"I knew you would lose them!"

"I was attacked by a frost troll."

"Excuses."

"A  _frost troll_."

"You lived, didn't you?" Her eyes turned to Fina with a hard look, daring her to continue the argument. Fina returned the look and so they reached a stalemate - neither of them budging.

After a minute like that, they both burst out laughing.

"I missed you, Mama."

The woman reached out and took her daughter's hand. "I missed you too, my darling."

There was a knock at the door, and Fina groaned. "Enter!"

The door opened, and a guard stuck his head in. "Lady Fina, we are ready to depart."

"I've got a stallion at the stables, did you saddle him?"

"Yes, my lady."

"I will meet you by the city gates in five minutes."

He nodded and shut the door behind him. Fina and her mother stood, embracing.

"You'll be careful?"

"Of course, Mama."

"I love you, my brave little Dragonborn."

"I love you, too." Fina smiled, kissing her on both cheeks and hurrying out before either of them could succumb to tears.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, I'm pretending that the Thalmor don't exist. Or rather - that they aren't a separate entity to the Imperials. I don't know enough about them, and I wasn't sure how to properly incorporate them into my plot. So just pretend you've never heard of them. Ulfric hating elves stands as is.


	16. Four to One

**L J O R N**

* * *

Ljorn had had his heart set on becoming a Companion ever since he was old enough to hold a sword. He had followed the warriors around with his play sword, chasing them and begging them to teach him their ways.

The Companions tolerated him, even allowing him to occasionally stay around for his afternoon meal or to hear their stories told around the fire. He was around so often that he once even caught Aela and Skjor in the act, though he didn't realise what he'd seen until he was older.

The Companions would pretend to wrestle with him and Farkas was fond of dangling Ljorn by his ankles until all of the blood had drained to his face and he was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe. Even stoic and brooding Vilkas seemed to take a shine to him.

All of this was amazing to Ljorn, but still, they refused to teach him to fight. They never gave him a reason and it drove him wild.

When the Companions newest recruit, Ria, joined when Ljorn was thirteen, she agreed to take him under her wing. He was overjoyed at the prospect of finally learning to use a sword. So, when he wasn't responsible for helping Gretna with the other children at the orphanage or doing the chores she assigned him, he spent his time training with Ria.

Being the youngest and least experienced of the Companions, Ria was a patient teacher, as those who also struggled to learn often are. In a matter of months, Ljorn's body began to show the signs of a warrior's build and he could hold his own with a sword and shield.

Farkas took note one day as he happened to be passing and stopped to watch the two spar. He'd always been fond of the boy and was more than happy to speak to Kodlak about the possibility of Ljorn joining. Farkas found it cruel that as soon as one of the orphans turned sixteen, they were left to make their own way in the world.

With some convincing, Kodlak agreed. He had his concerns, as Ljorn was so young, but as Farkas reminded him, so were Vilkas and Farkas when the Companions took them in.

So, on his sixteenth birthday, Ljorn became a Companion.

It was easy for him to fit in with them, just as he had done for years. The only difference was now they also treated him as a whelp. They'd have him polish their armour, run errands for them, and scrub the mud from their boots. He didn't mind much - he was just happy to be one of them.

Ljorn thought of Syra sometimes. Mostly at night when he heard the breathing of the others around him and was reminded of their time at the orphanage together. Often they would wake in the night and sneak out together. They found a way to shimmy up the wall in the back which they could use to jump onto the rooftop. Up there, they would sit in silence and watch the stars shine, like promises of a future in the sky.

When she was adopted, it was perhaps the most bittersweet day of his life. He missed her horribly, but was happy she had finally been adopted - something they'd both dreamed of for years.

So when Syra had appeared outside his window one night, two years later, he had been shocked to say the least. He met her out behind the orphanage, where she had collapsed after getting his attention. When he had smelled the blood on her, he'd almost been sick.

Syra's job hadn't gone as planned and although she completed it with no witnesses, the mark had managed to stab her in the thigh before she finished him off.

Ljorn had some experience in tending wounds, both from his training with Ria and from growing up in the orphanage and caring for so many children. He had been able to clean and stitch up her wound.

"What in Oblivion have you gotten yourself into, Syra?" He whispered fiercely at her. "Why aren't you with your family?"

"You were my family and I was too blind to see it." She was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, glimmering in the moonlight. Ljorn gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly.

"What happened?"

"He was horrible, Ljorn." She told him bitterly. "He would...would…" Syra shuddered and shook her head, unable to even get the words out before a fresh cry broke from her. "It doesn't matter, he's dead now."

"Then where have you been living?"

"I was taken in by the Brotherhood."

"The  _Dark_  Brotherhood?"

She nodded, sniffing and wiping at her nose and cheeks. Ljorn couldn't even begin to try and hide his shock.

"What business do you have with  _assassins_?" He spat.

"They've taken me in. I work for them now." Her crying quieted and he could tell she was putting a guard up, becoming defensive over her situation.

Ljorn found it almost impossible to imagine Syra hurting anyone, let alone killing them. He felt like giving her a shake - how could she have gotten herself into this?

"Oh, don't look at me like that." She scowled, pulling away and gingerly touching at her newly-bandaged wound. "I owe them a debt." She downed a small vial of liquid which he imagined was some kind of healing potion.

Ljorn knew that if he opened his mouth now, he'd say something he would regret later, so he kept it shut.

"I need to go."

"But - your leg! How can you travel like this?"

"I've had worse." She murmured, refusing to meet his eyes. "Thank you, Ljorn. Please don't let anyone know you saw me."

He sighed, and pulled her in for another hug despite her feeble protests. He pressed a kiss to her brow. "My future bride, an assassin." Ljorn  _hmmph_ ed and let her go. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"You too." Syra nodded, giving him the smallest of smiles before she limped off into the night.

That had been over a year ago now. The last time he'd seen her was when she dropped off the two new children, not long before he turned sixteen. He'd known better than to ask her any questions. Seeing Syra so cold and emotionless was painful for him.

She had always been the bright little girl, bouncing around with golden girls and dirt smudged on her face. Naive, quick to laugh and gifted at cheering others and making them smile. How could that little girl be a killer? What exactly had her adopted family done to her?

Ljorn let the thoughts of her fade away. They would plague him, if he let them win. Besides, she was gone now. He no longer clung to the hope of marrying her as he had when he was younger. The notion was entirely ridiculous now - they were both different people now with different paths. Very, very different paths.

But, then, the Divines have a strange way of throwing you down paths you never suspected you'd travel down.

**S Y R A**

* * *

"Syra, come in here!" She had been making her way towards her room, but stopped at the sound of her name. She looked down into into the kitchen to see Babette, Nazir, Veezara, Gabriella, Festus, and Cicero all sitting around the table.

"What's going on?" She asked, wary of the situation.

"We're calling a Brotherhood meeting." Babette called up to her.

Syra had a bad feeling about this. She walked down the stairs, taking a chair beside the unchild and glancing around at them all.

"What about?"

"Well, we've got a Listener now. We want to know how things are going to change." Babette explained and then nodded to Nazir. "Could you fetch Astrid and Arnbjorn?"

The Redguard man stood and left, heading towards Astrid's room.

"I don't think anything is going to change." Syra grumbled, crossing her arms. This was all she needed - another situation where Astrid could ridicule her in front of the others.

"Well, it should." Festus' voice cracked, always sounding as if it hadn't been used for a long time.

Syra shook her head and kept silent as Arnbjorn and Astrid entered, following after Nazir.

"What is this?" Astrid asked sharply, coming to stand at the head of the table. Nazir took his seat again and Arnbjorn sat beside him.

"We have a Listener now, Astrid. Doesn't that call for a change of procedure?" Babette asked.

Astrid crossed her arms. "I will take any names Syra gives me, but nothing will be different beyond that."

"Only our sweet Mother's contracts should be fulfilled." Cicero chimed in, wiggling his abnormally long fingers at her.

"He is right, Astrid." Festus pointed out. "It is traditional that the Listener takes the names and gives them to the Speaker. The Speakers role is to divvy out the contacts, not to create them."

"I see...So now that Syra seems to think she is the Listener, I'm no longer good enough? Who do you think has kept the Brotherhood alive all these years?"

"The Night Mother has chosen the Listener! The Listener doesn't choose herself!" Cicero interjected.

"No one is saying we don't appreciate your leadership, Astrid." Babette replied gently, giving the jester a silencing look. "If anything, it is because of your hard work that we have found a Listener."

"It means that we can finally begin to support ourselves as we did for centuries - living by The Five Tenets and fulfilling the Night Mother's wishes." Nazir added. "What do you think, Listener?"

All eyes turned to her, but Syra could feel Astrid's most of all. Her warning rang in Syra's head.

_Let's just say there are other ways I can hurt you._

Syra shrugged. "Astrid has made it clear that she doesn't want anything to change. I won't argue."

Astrid's eyes narrowed.

"It just doesn't seem right." Festus shook his head. "Perhaps we should put it to a vote?"

"Good idea, Festus." Veezara nodded his agreeance.

Gabriella spoke up, her voice soft. "I agree."

"Now, see here." Arnbjorn put in. "Astrid has dedicated her life to keeping the Brotherhood afloat! It should be her decision."

Syra resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. She knew the two were bedding each other - she doubted Arnbjorn even had an opinion in the matter. He likely was only trying to avoid being kicked out of Astrid's bed.

"Thank you, Arnbjorn." Astrid replied. "Have I ever given any of you a reason to doubt me? Haven't I always given you everything you need?"

They seemed to be at a standstill.

"Let the Mother decide!" Cicero broke the silence, pointing at Syra. She wished she could disappear.

"Yes, Syra. What does the Mother say?" All eyes turned to her.

"Uh. Just a moment." She closed her eyes, desperately hoping this worked.

_Night Mother?_

_I'm here, flower._

_What should I say?_

The Night Mother's gentle laughter tickled her mind. _Tell them I say I have chosen you as their leader. Astrid can continue to Speak, but only what you tell her._

_I can't! Astrid will despise me for it._

For the first time since meeting the Night Mother, she felt the brush of her anger.  _Do you doubt me, Syra?_

_No, Lady Death._

_Then tell them what I say._

Syra opened her eyes, dreading what effect her next words would have. "I spoken with her."

"And?" Babette prompted.

She stared at the table, not wanting to see the look on Astrid's face when she delivered the message. "The Night Mother said that she has chosen me as the Listener and therefore the leader. She said that Astrid can continue to be the Speaker, but only the contracts the Night Mother gives me."

There was dead quiet for a moment, and then Cicero spoke up.

"Cicero knew it!"

"Do you all agree with this, then?" Astrid's voice was deadly quiet and Syra could feel her eyes like a knife.

"The Night Mother has spoken. Who are we to contradict her?" Nazir asked.

Arnbjorn burst from his chair. " _Syra_  has spoken, not the Night Mother!"

"It is the same thing for the Listener." Festus told him calmly.

Syra felt like she was going to be sick.

"It's okay, Arnbjorn." Astrid placed a hand on his shoulder. "We are outvoted. I will do as the Mother says."

With that, she turned and left the room, leaving a lingering coldness behind her. Arnbjorn followed at her heels like a lost puppy.

"I'm glad we got that settled." Festus said, getting up and excusing himself. Gabriella and Veezara followed shortly after.

Syra dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

"What's the matter, Sister?" Babette asked, putting a small hand on her shoulder.

"Astrid warned me not to undermine here again, but thats exactly what I've done."

"That isn't really her threat to make." Nazir shrugged. "She knows she can't harm you, what else could she do?"

Syra remembered Astrid's threat again, but shook her head and kept her mouth shut.

"Cicero will keep the Listener safe." The jester's tone was overly happy. Babette made a gagging noise and Nazir laughed.

Syra stood up, glaring at him. "I don't want your help, jester." She growled, leaving before she could resort to violence again.

**F I N A**

* * *

The journey to Sky Haven Temple took them three days from Windhelm, and they found no sign of Delphine on their way.

Fina had expected as much. Delphine travelled alone and therefore would be faster than their own party of six.

When they finally arrived, Fina could tell that they were walking into a trap. Delphine likely would have had time to gather more recruits and perhaps even ask for reinforcements from the Imperials. There could be any number of men within and she had no doubt they would be grossly outnumbered.

She stopped the men outside of the entrance, handing them all stamina and health potions. Fina herself was long past exhaustion - her body was completely reliant on potions to keep going and she was walking on thin ice.

"You are the finest Windhelm has to offer." She told them. "I have no doubt that we will be victorious. Keep your eyes open, report anything suspicious to me, even if it may seem insignificant. There could be traps beyond, or perhaps even an ambush."

The men shifted nervously, but all of them nodded and drew their weapons.

"If we come across an old man - his name is Esbern - he _must_  be left alive, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" The chimed at once.

"Good lads." Fina nodded approvingly.

Inside, it was easy for them to navigate through the passages as Fina had been there often. To her surprise, none of the pressure plates or hidden traps had been reactivated. She had expected them to be doing everything they could to prevent Fina reaching the Wall.

It seemed too easy. She warned her men not to grow comfortable and to keep their guards up.

When they reached the entrance to the Wall itself, the door was wide open and no sound came from the chamber within.

Fina signaled for them to be silent, and crept towards the walkway. She peered down, seeing no light burning at the other side.

_Something feels wrong._

She waved for them to follow, and began to head down the hall. When they came to the end of it, she looked around the corners, but found no one there.

_Surely they wouldn't have abandoned the Wall…_

No, she could smell fresh smoke - they'd only just put out the fire. Fina cursed.

_So, it's going to be an ambush, then?_

She signaled for three of the men to remain in the hall, and brought the other two out into the main chamber with her. Still, no one stirred. No breathing, no clinking of armour, no sign of life besides the recently doused fire and the uneaten food on the table.

They inched towards the bunk room, but it was empty as well.

It was then that they heard the cry from the way they'd come. They hurried back out into the main hall, and found that one of the men had taken an arrow to the knee.

Behind them, twenty Imperial soldiers poured in.

_Four to one._

"Form up!" They formed a circle, their backs facing towards the centre. They drew their weapons just as the Imperials swarmed them.

Fina was out of practise in this sort of battle, and so it took her longer to react than it should have. The man with the arrow in his knee didn't last long and was the first one of them to fall.

Still, the others were striking down men with a vengeance. The Imperials all seemed to be quite young - it was likely that even though Tullius had supplied Delphine with men, they weren't anywhere near his finest.

Fina easily took down two of them, her sword hitting its mark in one boy's chest and as she pulled it free and swung again, it drew a bloody smile across another's neck. It felt so wrong to her - they truly were nothing more than boys. Boys dying for no good reason.

A woman came at her with a cry and had her greatsword raised to strike. Fina ducked, and the sword hit one of the woman's comrades instead. She stopped in horror, her panic clear up until the moment Fina's sword pierced through her stomach.

The foul bitter smell of bile hit the air as Fina's sword came free and the contents of the woman's stomach leaked down her front. She collapsed in a heap and Fina turned away to take stock of her men.

Four of them still stood, but had taken hits themselves and she could see blood dripping from wounds on their arms and torsos. She blocked a hit from another boy and raised her leg, kicking him in the groin and sending him sprawling backwards - and right into one of her men's swords.

The Imperials were falling like flies. Now there were no more than seven left...but no sign of Delphine. Fina swore and spun as movement caught the corner of her eye.

She watched as Esbern ran from the hallway, crawling under the table and huddling into himself like a coward. Well, at least they'd found him.

Fina downed another young woman - an Altmer - and then saw they were left with only three more Imperials.

One of which, was Harlen.

"Dragonborn!" He cried at her, and she meant to tell her men to leave him alone, but before she could even open her mouth, a Stormcloak axe embedded itself in his chest.

"No!" She cried, letting her men finish off the remaining two Imperials and rushing to Harlen's side.

He had fallen to the ground and was crying in pain, gasping for breath as blood ran from his nostrils and down his cheek. Fina knelt beside him, taking his hand in hers and smoothing her fingers over his cheek.

"Oh, Harlen." She breathed, shaking her head in horror.

"Lady Dragonborn…" He groaned, eyes flickering open and closed. "Delphine…"

"Shh."

"I must tell you…" He coughed, and his lips began to bubble a scarlet froth. "Delphine…She is on the road to the capital…"

"To Solitude?"

He tried to nod, but it just came out as a grimace. "Just...left…" His breathing began to slow and Fina wished she could have saved him.

"Now...You could...stop…" His eyes fluttered closed and he fell still. Fina kissed his hand and then laid it upon his chest.

_Just a boy._

"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't realise -" One of her men said behind her. Fina waved at him dismissively.

"You couldn't have known." She stood, turning to look at them all. They all were on their feet, but some of them with more difficulty than others.

"Esbern, get out here." She bent to look at him under the table and he peeked his head out at her.

"I had no idea, Dragonborn!" He croaked. "Please believe me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you, Esbern. Come on." Fina sighed, waiting impatiently as he crawled out and stood up.

"I swear I had no idea what she was up to! All my life I have only dreamt of serving the Last Dragonborn!"

He looked like he was about ready to fall to his knees and start begging her, so she walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I believe you, old man. You were too obsessed with the Wall to have any time for plotting." Fina pushed him down into a chair. "Did you finish translating the Wall?"

"Oh yes! Yes! A week ago, I finished."

"Did you share your findings with Delphine?"

"I'm afraid so."

Fina cursed, trembling with contained rage. "I've got to go after her. Harlen told me she has just left for Solitude."

"I knew she left, but I didn't know where." Esbern replied.

She ignored him and turned to her men. One of them was bent over the body of his fallen comrade, murmuring a prayer. She frowned and came to stand beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Sovngarde will welcome him with open arms." She murmured. The man smiled up at her thankfully and she squeezed his shoulder.

Fina turned back to the others. "You four will take Esbern with you back to Windhelm. I trust he won't be any trouble." She looked pointedly at the old man, and he shook his head vigorously.

"I'll help you in any way I can, Dovahkiin."

Satisfied, Fina nodded. "Rest awhile, see to your wounds. I must try and catch up to Delphine."

Before she left, she returned to the bunk room, adding a whole stock of stamina potions to her bag. She downed one and also a health potion before she turned to leave. Then, Fina remembered something.

The horse. She found her bed and under her pillow, just as she had left it, was Arik's wooden horse. She tucked it carefully into her pack and then left to find the traitor.

**A R I K**

* * *

He was on his back, flat on the ground. Above him, Yatto and Matto hovered. One of Matto's arms was missing, and Yatto's face was mostly hacked away, save for one glaring eye that pierced him like an arrow.

Matto grinned, already stained teeth dripping crimson. Yatto's expression was unreadable - his teeth had been knocked out and pounded into random places on his face - above his eyebrow, his cheeks, neck, scalp, and even his long, jawless tongue, which dangled down his face by a single thread.

It was the single most terrifying sight that Arik had ever seen. He screamed, watching, immobilised, as three hands reached down, two grabbing at his neck and the third plunging itself through his chest as if it were as pliable as a ball of dough.

The fingers wrapped around his heart, ripping it free. Matto held it in his hand, watching it pulsate before he shoved it into his mouth and started to chew.

Arik awoke with a shout, bolting straight upright in the chair before the fire place. Sun streamed through the intricate stained glass of his window, sending a cascading line of colour across the floor towards him.

He was covered in cold sweat, hair plastered to his forehead and falling in his eyes in thick wet curls. He covered his face, trying desperately to pull himself completely free from the clutches of his dream.

After a few minutes, he realised someone had cleared his plate from last night and provided bread and honey for his breakfast. The dirty bath water and tub had also been removed.

Arik's body ached. Not just from his night in the chair, but also from days on the road. When he stood up, it felt like someone had wedged a tree between his legs, making him walk with his feet unusually far apart. He groaned.

He was just washing the sticky residue from his face and neck when a knock sounded on the door. He dried his face off and answered it, finding Morrin outside, smiling brightly at him.

"Good morning, sir. Jarl Ulfric has asked to see you."

Arik nodded and followed Morrin out into the hall. The boy lead him down the stairs and through the main hall to the battle room. Galmar and Ulfric sat across from each other at the table, going back and forth between the map and the letters, making notes here and there and moving the red and blue markers around.

Morrin bowed to both Ulfric and Arik and then turned to leave. Arik stood by the door, watching the two men grumble and sigh.

When Ulfric finally looked up, he smiled kindly. His face was marked with the lines of age, but Arik suspected he was not so old as he appeared.

"Arik, thank you for coming." He waved him forwards and Arik approached the table.

"We've been trying to make sense of these letters all night." Galmar growled, pounding his fist on the table.

"I don't suppose you know much about the Blades, son?" Ulfric asked, ignoring Galmar's outburst. "We are in need of Fina's input, but that obviously poses a problem."

Arik shook his head. "I'm afraid I know as much as you, my Jarl."

"I imagined as much." He sighed. "Perhaps we should speak about the dragons, then." Ulfric gestured for Arik to sit, and so he took the seat beside Galmar.

"Tell me about Paarthurnax."

"He was close to Alduin during the war, but promised the Blades his help in defeating him. He fled before he could do as he promised, but later repented to the Greybeards and - believing he was genuine - they agreed to hide him." He shrugged. "From what Arngeir told me, the Greybeards couldn't bare to live in a dragon-less world."

"Without dragons, the Greybeards have not served much of a purpose up on the mountain. I saw as much when they agreed to teach me. The Way of the Voice is a dying craft."

"I was the first to take the vows in fifty years."

"Hmm." Ulfric rubbed his beard between his fingers, staring absently at the map. "I've had three dragons attack my armies in the last two weeks. They kill the beasts, but they rise in the night and live to attack again!"

"Like giant flying draugr!" Galmar agreed. "Dragons are not good business in war times."

"Aye." Ulfric leaned back, tearing his eyes away from the map. "How long were you with the Elders for?"

"Three years."

"And before that?"

"The orphanage in Whiterun."

Ulfric shook his head, frowning. "That's a sad business. What was your father's name?"

"Alfinuur of Ivarstead."

"Alfinuur…" Ulfric drifted off, thinking hard on it. "The name strikes a memory, but I can't place it."

"He used to carry supplies to the Greybeards. A frost troll got him on the Steps before I was a year old."

"That's it! Aye, I walked with him the first time I climbed the Steps."

Arik felt his stomach jump at the idea Ulfric had known his father.

"He was a good man. Spent the entire walk telling stories. It would have been before you were born, I imagine. He was young. I seem to remember he was engaged to be married, but I'm not certain."

"You know more of him than I." Arik admitted.

"Is that why you joined the Greybeards?"

Arik nodded. "The one thing my father left to me was a copy of The Way of the Voice. I grew up dreaming of High Hrothgar."

Ulfric chuckled. "Not the normal dream of a young Nord man."

"I suppose not." He couldn't bring himself to smile, but it was good to have a discussion not based around dragons and killing.

"Do you know anything about Alduin's Wall?"

He shook his head. "Arngeir never mentioned it. Whether thats because he didn't know himself, or if it was a secret, I'm not sure."

"Fina said the Blades seemed to think the Wall held the secret to Alduin's defeat."

"It's possible. From what she told me, in the vision Paarthurnax showed her, the Blades had a Shout that could be used to force dragons to the ground. She thinks Paarthurnax knows the Shout, but wouldn't tell her."

"Wouldn't tell her?"

"He told her he wasn't sure of her allegiances and wouldn't give up the Shout until he was. In hindsight, it seems he must have suspected she was working with the Blades."

"That  _is_  a problem." Ulfric's brows furrowed. "Perhaps the Blades finished translating Alduin's Wall. We can only hope that when Fina returns she will have the answers we need."

**F I N A**

* * *

As she exited the chamber, Fina stopped in the hall and bent to relieve a fallen Imperial woman of her armour. If she were to get anywhere near the capital, she couldn't be wearing the Stormcloak colours.

Outside, Vokun was waiting for her, pawing at the ground. He was the strongest horse she'd ever ridden - he'd gone for days without slowing with minimal food and water. Even now, he was eager to run. She stroked his mane, forcing him to be calm and drink his fill.

When he had, they took off at a gallop. Fina was determined to catch Delphine before she made it anywhere near the capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I decided to make Ljorn a recurring character because I liked his name. The name just came to me when I was writing the prologue and his character was meant to start and end there...But then I decided to keep him around! Honestly, nearly the same thing happened with Syra. I liked her even before she had a place in the plot so I decided to make one for her. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, lovelies! xx


	17. Mercy

**S Y R A**

* * *

"Syra!" An urgent whisper woke her from her slumber and she rolled over to see Babette standing by her bed.

"Babette? What time is it?"

"Late. Or early, depending." The vampire replied. "You have to get up."

"Why, what's going on?"

"I just overheard Astrid and Arnbjorn - she sent him out on a hit."

"I don't understand." Syra said sleepily. It was perfectly normal for Astrid to be sending people out on jobs.

"Does the name Ljorn mean anything to you?" Babette asked.

" _What_?" Syra blanched, sitting up and swinging her legs out of the bed.

"That's the name of the mark."

"Oh, by Sithis!" She got up and grabbed her black shroud, tugging the close-fitting material over her body and fastening it in place.

"Who is he?"

"A friend." Syra tied her long hair back with a leather strip and tugged on her cowl and mask. She strapped her dagger to her side and headed for the door, Babette at her heels.

"I see what you meant about Astrid's threat."

"When did he leave?"

"Perhaps a half hour ago. To Whiterun. I would have come sooner but I had to wait for Astrid to fall asleep."

She swore, storming through the training room and up the stairs to the exit.  _Why didn't the Night Mother warn me?_

"Good luck!" Babette called as she ran out. Syra bitterly wished that Babette had come to her sooner, Astrid asleep or not. Arnbjorn was faster than her and would be on horseback, so every second counted.

It was still black as pitch outside. She managed to quietly relieve the stables of one of their horses. Syra was inexperienced with horses and had never liked riding, but she had no other choice.

It took awhile for her to catch the hang of the jolting movements of the animal, but soon she was leaning low over its neck, pushing it as fast as she could convince it to go.

The very tip of the sun was gleaming on the horizon when she arrived at Whiterun. She wasn't even sure where to begin looking - she knew Ljorn had just turned sixteen, so the orphanage was unlikely. She jumped from the horse, tying it at a tree near the stables.

 _Jorrvaskr._  The Night Mother whispered to her. Syra didn't respond, angry that she was only speaking up now.

She took off at a dead run, avoiding the main gates and instead choosing the portion of wall closest to Jorrvaskr. Syra easily scaled the side of the wall and dropped over, hitting the ground with a painful jolt. She was just in time to hear Ljorn cry out in pain.

She could see him ahead, shield raised in defense against the direction an arrow had come from. It had glanced off the shield, saving his chest but directing it into his shoulder instead. He dropped low, sword drawn, squinting in an attempt to see in the dark.

Another arrow shot out, this one hitting the centre of the shield. Syra crouched in the shadows, trying to see Arnbjorn. She could see an array of weapons scattered around the yard, but she wasn't sure what she could use. Her eyes lit on a pair of throwing knives.

Arnbjorn shot again, and this one took Ljorn in the leg. He stumbled to his knees, shield slipping and leaving him vulnerable.

Making a quick decision, Syra rolled out and grabbed the knives, popping to her feet in front of Ljorn and blocking him from further attacks.

Taking a blind shot, Syra threw one of the knives in the direction she hoped Arnbjorn was in. If she was wrong, she'd be an easy target.

"Syra?" Ljorn's voice was strained.

"It's me." She replied.

There was a rustling in a tree overshadowing the wall and she knew that's where he was. She squinted, spotting a bit of moving black and threw the second knife. As she did, another arrow shot out, heading straight for her.

Ljorn shoved her out of the way and she gasped as it hit him instead, embedding itself in his side. He collapsed.

"Ljorn!" Syra cried. She looked up, trying to find Arnbjorn in the darkness. Without warning, he leapt towards her, sword drawn.

It was as if the scene played out in slow motion. Syra watched him running at her, could see the gash where one of the knives had hit him in the leg and how he limped. Her eyes fell to his sword, shining in the pale light of early morning, knowing that in four strides he would skewer her through the belly.

 _Not today._  She reached for her dagger, aimed, and threw.

The blade flew through the air and had hit Arnbjorn before he could even think to move. It landed square between the eyes, and he fell like a sawn log, hitting the ground with a thud. He hadn't even had time to feel pain.

"Syra." Ljorn's voice brought her back and she turned, dropping to his side. His face was deadly pale, hands pressed against the flow of blood from his side. It was the most lethal of the three wounds - not many died from arrows to their shoulders or legs, but if it hit anywhere near your gut, it was trouble.

"You're such an idiot! Why did you do that?" She felt herself begin to cry, ripping the mask from her face. He raised a bloody hand to her cheek.

"Just protecting my future wife." He whispered.

Syra gave him a choked laugh in response, covering his hand where it touched her face. "I don't deserve you, do I?"

She turned her head and kissed his palm. "I'll call for the Companions, hold still."

Ljorn clutched her hand, shaking his head.

"Stop it! You aren't going to die." She shook him off and hurried to the door, shoving it open.

"Ljorn has been injured! He needs help! Send for Danica!" She saw a couple of people within, but didn't wait to see them react. They had heard her. They would get him help.

Syra raced back to his side, taking his hand. "I'm so sorry." She whispered, stroking his face.

"Are you going to run off on me again?"

"I have to."

He nodded, wincing. His face was so white, she was worried he'd bleed out before Danica could even get there. She heard voices near the door, knowing she only had a moment longer.

"I'll check on you." She pledged, leaning down and kissing his brow.

"Promise?"

"I promise." Their faces were close, and she heard the doors crack open. Boots and armour clinking as someone hurried towards them.

Syra smiled at him and pressed her lips to his. She could taste blood on his breath as he kissed her back.

Never before had she taken the initiative to kiss someone, and never before had she wanted so badly to do it again. She pulled away, donning her mask and standing up. She turned to run and nearly tripped over Arnbjorn's body.

His dead eyes stared up at her and she pried the dagger out of his head. His body twitched eerily as the weapon tweaked within his brain and slipped free. She slipped it into its sheath and leapt for the wall, scrambling up and dropping down the other side.

She heard shouts after her, but then their full concern moved to Ljorn.

 _Good._  She told herself.  _He has the family he always deserved._

**L J O R N**

* * *

If he'd felt weak before, it was nothing compared to when Syra kissed him. It was like everything he'd been waiting for since they were children had just come true. But then she was gone and he was left back with his pain. His mind swam, vision fading in and out of black.

"Syra." He mumbled, knowing she was too far to hear him.

Ria dropped by Ljorn's side, taking his hand as she looked over his wounds.

"Hold on, Ljorn. We've called for Danica. She'll be right here." Her warm hand on his calmed him, and he let his eyes slide closed.

"Assassin!" Farkas shouted into the black, but Ljorn knew Syra would be long gone. He looked down at the body, and bent over to rip the mask from it's face. " _Arnbjorn_?" He spat. Ljorn recognised the man's name. Farkas told him that he'd once been part of the Circle. He was a bit too fond of taking lives for the Companions' liking and had been banished.

"Hircine take him." He grumbled and turned around. "Is it bad?"

"Carry him inside, Farkas."

He did as he was told, stooping to lift Ljorn into his arms. They hurried inside and down to his bed in the whelps' room. Danica joined them there shortly after, slinging her bag onto the ground.

"Three arrows." She said, seeming to speak more to herself than the others. Ljorn's eyes fluttered open to watch her. "Hello, Ljorn. Quite a night you're having."

He tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace.

"Farkas, I'm going to need you to pull them out. Start with the one at his side." She instructed, and Farkas leaned over the bed. Danica showed him how to grip the arrow, warning him to pull it straight and quick.

"Okay, Ljorn. Take my hand. This is going to hurt." Danica clasped his hand. She nodded to Farkas, and he yanked on the arrow. It came free with a sick popping noise.

Ljorn cried out. The pain was unbelievable, and he'd thought it had been bad before. He squeezed his eyes shut, body spasming.

"Well done, Ljorn." Danica pressed her hands over the wound in his side and closed her eyes, focussing the healing light into his flesh. "I won't be able to close it entirely, but I can take care of most of the internal damage."

"Okay, move to his shoulder. Deep breath again for me, Ljorn."

As Farkas pulled out the second arrow, Ljorn blacked out.

**xxxxx**

He could hear voices.

"I should have figured Arnbjorn would go to the Brotherhood."

"Aye. But who in Talos' name would put a hit out on the boy? He hasn't even so much as looked at someone wrong in his entire life."

"He seemed to know the girl who bolted when Ria and I found him. Or I'd hope as much, considering I swear she kissed him before she took off. She was part of the Brotherhood, too. I don't imagine it was Ljorn who took Arnbjorn out, not with three arrows in him."

"You think maybe someone was using Ljorn as a way to hurt the girl?" It was Vilkas' voice, he was sure of it now.

"It's possible." Farkas sighed.

Ljorn's eyes felt like they had been stuck shut. He struggled to open them, but when he did his entire body was struck with red-hot scorch of pain. He groaned, clenching his fists while he waited for the feeling to subside. If anything, that made it worse.

"Easy, boy." A warm hand pressed against his chest, settling him back. "Relax. Go back to sleep, you'll feel better when you wake again." Farkas' voice seemed to be coming to him from a great distance.

Giving in to the words, he fell back asleep.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra found her way back to where she'd left the horse and mounted, heading off in the direction of Falkreath.

But could she really go back now? She'd just murdered one of her Brothers. Astrid would be ravenous and she didn't imagine her being the Listener would make a difference this time.

 _Oh, Ljorn._  She was crying again.

Syra had been riding for less than an hour when she stopped short and slid off the horse. Sobs wracked her body as she slumped in the dirt.

He had almost died, and it had been all her fault. She should never have told them what the Night Mother said. She couldn't even guess how Astrid had known about Ljorn. Unless...Had she followed Syra the night she took the children to him?

_You're a bloody idiot, Syra._

It felt like the Night Mother had forsaken her. Hadn't she promised to keep her safe, along with those she cared about? How had Syra let herself trust in someone again after all she had been through? Especially some sort of phantom beauty she met in a dream!

"Its all my fault." She whispered, hugging herself and trying to stop the tears.  _For all I know, Ljorn could be dead by now._

 _He lives._  The Night Mother chimed in.

_Why didn't you warn me?_

_Come and visit me, precious._

Syra shut her out, covering her ears as if it would make the noise go away. As she did, a wave of heat rolled over her like hot air from a forge and she collapsed.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in the forest, standing before the thorn throne. The Night Mother looked at her with thinly concealed contempt.

"You need to trust in me, Syra." Her voice was sharp, a tone Syra hadn't associated with her before.

"He could have died! You said you'd keep my friends safe." She sounded feeble and childish, even to her own ears.

"His wounds will heal. The events of tonight need to happen exactly as they are."

"I don't understand." Syra said numbly.

The Night Mother's expression softened and she walked towards Syra, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Although she wanted to pull away, Syra's body reacted on it's own and she pressed her face into the Mother's shoulder.

"It will all become clear shortly, flower. Once you return to the Sanctuary everything will make sense." She smoothed Syra's hair, pressing feather-light kisses across her brow. "I am keeping you safe."

"What's going to happen?"

The Night Mother pulled back, shaking her head. "Make haste. Your work is not yet complete tonight." Without another word, she cupped Syra's face in both of her hands and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.

Syra awoke on the ground, the horse nudging her fallen body with its nose and sniffing around as if it expected to find food. She was not much comforted by seeing the Night Mother, but she did have a renewed sense of urgency. Whatever awaited her at the Sanctuary, it was as if she could feel the importance of it singing in her bones.

**xxxxx**

When she arrived back in Falkreath, the sun had risen. Syra set the horse free and then made her way towards the Sanctuary. As she snuck behind the inn, she caught a snippet of conversation between two patrons.

"Imperial soldiers, at least fifteen of them. They just marched right through the city!"

"Where do you think they were headed?"

"They marched south. Only the Eight know beyond that."

South. Imperials. The Sanctuary? Suddenly Syra knew what the Night Mother had meant. She sped up, racing over down the steep rock face until she could look down onto the entrance from above.

Two Imperial soldiers stood below, obviously on guard. Not for the first time, Syra knew she would need to start learning how to use a bow. She was useless from up here with nothing but a dagger. Her only asset would be surprise, considering there was no way she could take two of them in combat at once - especially in broad daylight.

"Do you think they're done yet?" One of the soldiers asked the other irritably. "This was supposed to be a quick job."

The other soldier shrugged. He had his sword pulled from it's sheath and was examining his face in the glint of the blade.

Syra struggled desperately to think of a plan. She figured from here she could jump on one of them, but that would leave her vulnerable to the other. She grunted in frustration and sat back on her heels.

 _What do I do?_  She wasn't sure if she was asking herself or the Night Mother, but any idea would help.

_Distract one._

Syra frowned. Distract one?  _Hmmph._

She leaned forwards on her palms to glance over the side and down at the soldiers again. As she did, a sharp rock dug into the soft pulp of her hand. Then an idea hit her. She picked up the rock and tossed it as hard as she could at a tree several yards from where the soldiers stood.

"What was that?"

"Go check it out."

"Why not you?"

"I'm your senior."

"By  _two days._ "

"Go!"

The other one - the one who had been looking at his reflection - grumbled, but started towards the tree. Once he was a good distance away, Syra drew her dagger and as quietly as possible, dropped to the ground behind the soldier who had stayed put.

She reached up on her toes, covering his mouth with her hand and drawing the blade across his throat. He fell silently, and she carefully lowered the weight of his body to the ground.

The other soldier reached the tree and was pushing around the nearby shrubs and grass, looking for the culprit.

"I don't see anything!" He called back over his shoulder.

Syra darted behind a nearby tree. When the soldier didn't receive a response, he turned around and saw his fallen comrade. He swore violently and ran back, dropping down by the dead man's side.

 _What a fool._  Syra couldn't help but smile. How had his first concern been the dead man, and not whoever had killed him?

She darted out from behind the tree, taking the opportunity to come up behind the second soldier. He looked around wildly, but saw her a moment too late. Syra sunk her blade into the side of his neck. The man tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle, blood running from his mouth and down his chin in a waterfall of red.

Syra nearly laughed, but stopped herself when she remembered the situation. Imperials attacking the Sanctuary. She hastily took one of the soldier's sword, strapping it around her waist. She was by no means experienced with the weapon, but knew it could come in handy.

She pushed open the door, seeing before her three Imperial corpses followed by the fallen form of Festus. Syra barely recognised the old man. His robes had been torn open by a sword, and a jagged wound on his chest still oozed. She bent to check his pulse, but knew before she touched him that Sithis had already taken his soul.

No one around her seemed to be alive. She could see the flickering of flames from Astrid's study, licking the underside of the door and scorching the stones black. She ignored it - Astrid was the least of her concerns at this point.

She crept towards the training room, but no one had been left alive there, either. There were five or six Imperials as well as the poor broken bodies of Veezara and Gabriella. Syra was seized by an uncontrollable rage, and the only thing that kept her silent was the distant call of voices from the next room.

As she followed the noise into the dining hall, she could see Nazir fighting off two Imperial soldiers. Babette stood behind, shooting spells from around him. Cicero was nowhere to be seen. Syra drew the sword, hurrying across the room towards them.

Nazir noticed her, but made no reaction, leaving her undetected and dangerous. She hefted the sword - which was heavier than she was expecting - and with some difficulty, rammed it as hard she should could into one of the soldier's backs.

It hit it's target, but was by no means a kill. The man cried out, stumbling forward a few steps. He spun on her and Syra dropped the sword, letting it clatter to the stone floor. As he charged at her, she dropped to her knees and drew her dagger, aiming it up at an angle as he fell upon her, impaling himself on the weapon.

His full weight fell onto Syra, crushing her beneath him. She struggled to push his body off, and when it thumped to the floor beside her, she could see that Nazir had finished off the other Imperial.

"Not a moment too late, Sister." He said, offering his hand. Syra let him pull her to her feet.

"Have you seen any of the others?" Babette asked. There wasn't much hope in her voice.

Syra nodded. "I saw Festus, Gabriella, and Veezara. All fallen."

Nazir shook his head sadly. "No sign of Astrid?"

"Or Cicero?" Added Babette.

"No." She replied, and stooped to pull her dagger out of the body.

"Did you reach Whiterun on time?" Babette inquired, casually taking the dagger from Syra and licking it clean. "Not bad." She commented to herself and gave it back to her, instead picking up one of the Imperial's arms and sinking her teeth in.

Syra accepted it and tried not to stare. "Yes. Arnbjorn is dead."

"Sithis is calling many of his children home tonight." Nazir gave Babette a look and she bared her teeth at him with a hiss, reluctantly dropping the arm. "I suppose we should try and find Astrid."

"They set her study on fire. I'll start there." Syra turned and started walking back towards the entrance.

"We'll check around the shrine."

She headed up the stairs, noticing that the flames around Astrid's study had subsided considerably. Coughing in the smoke, she noticed that someone had put a bar through the door handles, locking it shut so whoever was inside couldn't escape. She tugged at the bar and dropped it to the floor. It was hot to the touch and she jumped back from it, looking down at her hand in shock. Her glove had been singed, so she pulled it off and tossed it to the floor. She grabbed a sword from a nearby weapons rack, pushing it through one of the handles and prying the door open.

Smoke billowed out around her, obscuring her vision. Instinctively, Syra crouched, waving her hands in hopes of clearing the air more quickly. It stung her eyes, making them tear up painfully.

After a few moments, she could see more clearly and proceeded. Inside the office, lying on the floor beside the door, was Astrid. Or what was left of her, anyway.

Large portions of the Speaker's skin and muscle had been burnt away, revealing flashes of white-pink bone. Half of her face was a molten pool on the floor beside her. What remained was charred black and showing her teeth in a permanent half-smile. She felt bile rise in her throat.

_She has to be dead._

_She is not._  The Night Mother replied, and Syra was not deaf to the satisfaction in her voice.

Sure enough, Astrid's head turned towards her. "Sy...ra…" Her tongue moved visibly from the bare side of her head, like some sort of monster from a nightmare.

She came to stand over her, trying hard not to breathe in the horrific scent of burning skin and hair. It felt thick and sticky in her nostrils and she knew it would likely linger there for days.

"Forgive me."

"For what exactly? Sending your bastard dog of a lover to kill my friend? For being an insufferable bitch for the majority of my time here? For denying the Night Mother's wishes?" Her tone was harsher than she had intended, but as she spoke it gave her a rush of pleasure. She felt powerful, standing here over the dying, tortured body of her enemy.

"No."

Syra nearly killed her then.

"I...made a deal." Her words hissed, as if they had sprung a leak. "They said they would leave us...if we…" She coughed, and the act seemed so painful for her that Syra could hear her body tense up.

" _You_  lead the Imperials to us?"

Astrid shook her head. Or at least, it seemed like she did.

"If I promised them our services…"

"What, they'd turn a blind eye?" She snapped, knowing herself how idiotic of an idea it was. She must have guessed correctly, because Astrid squeezed her eyes shut, not putting up any argument.

"Please...kill me…"

Syra laughed at her, putting her hands on her hips. "And grant you a quick death?"

"Mercy…"

"I think not." She snorted, and leaned close over Astrid. "I'd say my mercy for the day has been used up. I already gifted your beloved Arnbjorn a quick death."

The look of distress and panic on the Speaker's face made her feel immensely better. "Sithis forsake you, Astrid."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, kicking the door shut behind her.

She met up with Babette and Nazir in the dining hall.

"Any sign of her?" Babette inquired.

"She's dead." Syra told them. Or as good as.

The Night Mother laughed mirthfully inside her mind.  _I told you I would protect you and those you care for, little one._

_Thank you, Lady Death._

"What do we do now? Still no sign of Cicero, but the Night Mother's casket was missing. I would take that to mean he lives on." Nazir said, swatting at Babette who had set to work chewing on another fallen body.

_Tell them to go to the old Sanctuary at Dawnstar. Cicero will bring my body there with him._

"Head to the Dawnstar Sanctuary." Syra relayed. "The Night Mother says Cicero is taking her there."

_You have one more task to complete, Syra._

"The Night Mother has another request of me. I will meet you both there as soon as I can."

_The woman Delphine heads for Solitude as we speak. She plans to divulge information to the Imperials that would aid them in the war. We cannot allow this after their actions here tonight._

_What of the Dragonborn?_

_The Stormcloaks know of her betrayal. The Dragonborn is in pursuit, but I fear she will not make it on time. You must hurry. Kill her._

_Yes, Mother._

Syra didn't need to think twice. The blood she had already taken in the last day was as addictive as Skooma - she was already eager for more.

Without sparing another glance to Nazir or Babette, she left.

_I will grant you quick travel. The horse of Lucien Lachance - Shadowmere - awaits you outside._

Just as the Night Mother said, outside the Sanctuary stood a massive black horse, eyes glowing angry and red. Tendrils of shadow seemed to cling to the steed, writhing around it like steam from a boiling pot. After a moment's investigation, Syra realised that the horse itself was made of shadow.

He greeted her with a bob of his head, even bending a foreleg so it was easier for Syra to climb onto his back.

 _Run like the Void is at your back, Shadowmere._  At Lady Death's urging, he took off.

 


	18. Mulaag

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik had been lying awake in bed for hours when he heard yelling in the palace below. He got out of bed, pulling himself together and taking the stairs down, two at a time. The sun had yet to rise and the main hall was entirely lit by the soft orange glow of torches.

Four Stormcloak soldiers had poured into the palace, each of them carrying at least one pack full of books. An old man Arik had never seen stood in their midst, his arms and pack also sagging under the weight of scrolls and heavy tomes.

The soldiers dropped the packs to the floor as Ulfric and Galmar entered. There was a loud thud as they hit the ground and a cloud of dust blossomed from inside the bags.

"Be careful!" The old man chastised, bending to check that there was no damage done.

"You're lucky we agreed to carry those books for you in the first place, old man!" One of them shot back.

"My Jarl!" They cried in unison as Ulfric entered. They snapped to attention and bowed before he waved at them dismissively.

"I sent six and four return?"

Arik's heart nearly forced it's way out of his chest when he realised that Fina was not among them. Ulfric seemed to have a similar reaction, but being the steadfast leader he was, it was carefully masked.

"Yes, Jarl Ulfric." One of them replied. "When we reached Sky Haven Temple, no less than twenty Imperial soldiers ambushed us. One of us fell."

Arik leaned against the wall for support, pressing a hand over his mouth.  _No._

"The traitor Delphine was escaping. Once the Imperials were dead, Lady Norfina took chase."

"So my niece lives?"

"The last we saw, she was quite well, my Jarl."

Arik's body hummed with relief and he closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow.  _Thank Kyne._

Ulfric nodded. "Do you know what direction she took?"

"North east - towards Solitude."

"Dangerous territory for a Stormcloak." Galmar shook his head and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"She is a fine warrior, I have no doubt she will do us proud." Ulfric's confidence was comforting. "And who is this?" The Jarl turned to the old man who was hovering protectively over his books.

"He is a Blade. Lady Norfina asked we bring him here - he has been studying Alduin's Wall and the dragon activities."

"Jarl Ulfric!" Esbern bowed to Ulfric, who looked entirely unimpressed. "I swear I did not know what Delphine was planning. I am a simple scholar, loyal only to the Dovahkiin and her cause."

Ulfric looked to Galmar questioningly.

"Any information we can get is of use." The other man grunted, shrugging.

"What is your name?"

"Esbern, my Jarl."

"Have you translated Alduin's Wall in it's entirety?"

"I believe so."

"You aren't sure?" Ulfric's gaze was critical.

"It is impossible to know with complete certainty. The wall was founded in the first era - much of the literature from that age has been lost."

"And what assurance do I have that you will not run to the Imperials at the first chance you get?"

Esbern smiled sheepishly. "I would not be able to carry all of my books on my own."

Galmar chuckled at that, and Ulfric smiled, seeming satisfied with the answer. The Jarl waved to Morrin and the serving boy scrambled forwards.

"Help the old man with his books. Set him up in a guest room." Ulfric turned back to Esbern. "As soon as you are able, I want you back down here. I have many questions for you."

"Of course, Jarl Ulfric." Morrin and Esbern struggled to take as many of the bags they could, but still three of them were left behind. Arik walked over, hoisting the remaining bags over his shoulder. His back screamed under the weight.

Before they disappeared up the stairs, Arik could hear Ulfric dismiss the soldiers.

So, Fina had gone after Delphine? He could only trust that her skill as a warrior was enough to keep her alive. Still, his stomach twisted at the thought of her in Imperial territory, alone.

**F I N A**

* * *

When Fina finished her last stamina potion, she knew she was in trouble. She'd been on the road for hours - she wasn't even sure how many. Her head felt foggy and she could feel Vokun faltering, becoming more clumsy, tripping on roots and rocks and branches as he struggled to keep the pace she'd set.

How much longer could she push them both like this?

Even with the fuzzy feeling in her head, Fina knew she couldn't be more than five or six hours from Solitude. If she didn't catch Delphine soon...Well, she didn't even want to think about what that would mean.

Vokun's leg caught between two risen tree roots, stopping them both short. At the sudden change of pace, Fina was thrown from his back, crashing headlong into the ground. She moaned, heartbeat pounding in her ears, vision swarming with red mist.

She was so tired. Her body screamed at her for more stamina, having been so used to the constant supply over the last several days.

Fina managed to roll onto her back, looking behind her to where Vokun stood, his entire body trembling from the exertion. His back leg was stuck out, trapped there.

 _Come on, Fina._  She roused herself, crawling to her knees and resting a moment before she convinced her body to stand. She stumbled to Vokun and drew her sword, hacking away at the roots that held him captive.

Once he was free, she leaned against his side. He shivered, his sweat going cold beneath her fingers. She knew that she needed to keep him moving. If they stopped now, they'd never get up again.

" _Lahvraan mulaag_ , Vokun." She murmured to him. "Gather strength."

Somehow, with Talos' help, Fina swung herself onto his back and with only a little convincing, he took off again.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Syra had never seen anything move as quickly as Shadowmere did. It felt as though she were flying and found herself wondering if his legs were even touching the ground.

 _Not much further now, little one._  The Night Mother told her, and Shadowmere heard her voice too, for he gave a little springing leap as if excited at the prospect.

With a thrill, Syra caught herself smiling and reached her arms down to hug his neck. Her legs were aching horribly, but it was as if someone was pumping her body full of stamina - she felt invincible and the pain was meaningless.

No more than a half hour later, a mounted rider was visible in the forest before them.

_Is it her?_

_Yes._

_Good._  They continued to race forwards, and the rider glanced back at them and then tried to speed her horse up.

Even with that, Shadowmere was faster and in no time they were nearly neck and neck. Delphine drew her sword.

_Trust him, Syra._

Syra hooked her feet firmly in the stirrups and grabbed her dagger. She hung low down his side, reaching for Delphine's saddle.

The woman kicked out, hitting Syra painfully in the shoulder. She cried out, but didn't let up. Shadowmere tossed his head, nipping his teeth at Delphine and keeping her distracted while Syra worked.

She reached out with her dagger and the two horses were so close that she was nearly rammed into Delphine's side. Syra slid her dagger under the saddle strap which reached under the horse's belly. With careful strokes, she began to saw at it.

Delphine kicked at her again, but Shadowmere swerved before the blow could make contact. Syra was torn away from her work, crying out in frustration.

The saddle seemed to be looser, but not loose enough to come free. The horses drew closer again, and this time Shadowmere took a bite at Delphine's hands. The woman swore, not noticing as Syra bent and finished her work.

The leather strapped ripped in half, but the horse kept moving. Delphine cried out as she tumbled off sideways, legs still in the stirrups. Shadowmere drew up short beside her, giving Syra the chance to jump down, dagger still in hand.

She advanced towards Delphine, whose sword had landed a few feet away. The Blade struggled free from her saddle and using a nearby tree for support, got to her feet.

Syra's body was buzzing with unused energy, and she crouched defensively, watching as Delphine picked up her sword.

"What does the Brotherhood want with me?"

"What the Brotherhood always wants with people." She replied quietly.

The woman growled and lunged forwards, brandishing her sword. Syra - who hadn't expected such a brash move - tried to roll away, but she wasn't quick enough and the blade caught her arm, splitting the cloth of her shroud from her elbow to her shoulder.

Luckily, the sword had barely touched her and no blood was drawn. All the same, Syra hissed, holding her dagger high. Delphine advanced towards her again, murder in her eyes.

It wasn't until this moment that Syra realised how unprepared she was for this fight. Her with little fighting experience of this kind and only a dagger, and this tall warrioress with far more experience and a further reach.

She tried not to panic. Perhaps she could do the same thing she had done to Arnbjorn.

 _Right between the eyes._  She lifted her dagger, aimed, and threw,

Delphine saw it coming. She dodged the throw easily and, just like that, Syra was defenceless.

She stumbled backwards and flailed as she tripped over a fall log. The ground rushed up to meet her and in the same instant, the air in her lungs deserted her.

That was when the pain exploded in her stomach. She cried out, body entirely rigid with shock as a foreign object invaded her sensitive flesh. There was screaming ringing in her ears and she knew it was her own.

_Ljorn._

Shadowmere reared, knocking into Delphine before the blade could sink all the way home. She fell over, crumbling on the ground as the horse stomped on her over and over. Syra was crying.

 _Ljorn._  Her hands lifted to her belly, pressing down, desperately trying to do anything to stop the pain tearing through her core.  _Ljorn._

Syra's fingers were sticky as she laced them together and held them the source of the blood flow.

She wondered vaguely why the Night Mother was silent, but truly, it wasn't her that she wanted. The forest seemed to be closing in around her as she stared up into the all-consuming sky.

"Ljor-" His name died on her lips and then she was swallowed.

**A R I K**

* * *

"So what you're saying," Ulfric began. "Is that we need to capture a dragon so that it can lead Fina to the portal into Sovngarde, because that is where Alduin will be hiding in wait?" He leaned back in his chair, staring incredulously at the old man.

"In short, yes." Esbern replied, smoothing down one of the pieces of parchment that held a rubbing from the Wall. "Technically speaking, the idea that Alduin will actually be in Sovngarde is an assumption." He shrugged. "But it would be the safest place for him."

Arik felt weary even hearing the words spoken. He rubbed at his eyes.

"How can a living soul even enter Sovngarde?" Galmar asked incredulously.

Esbern pulled a book towards himself, flipping it open. Arik caught a glimpse of the title as he did.  _Skuldafn._

"This book is about Skuldafn, Alduin's temple. It says here that it houses the portal to Sovngarde - the only one in Nirn that can be used safely by a mortal. It is guarded by a dragon priest named Nahkriin. Using his staff activates the portal." He explained.

"Do we know if that book is more than fable?" Ulfric pushed.

"All fable has some grips in history. What other information do we have?"

The Jarl sighed and waved absently for Morrin to refill his goblet of wine. The boy did so with a nervous flutter of his wrist.

"Arik, did the Greybeards ever mention Skuldafn?"

Arik shook his head. "No, not to me."

"How would we even capture a dragon?" Galmar grumbled.

Esbern didn't have an answer for that. He shook his head. "I am unsure."

The room fell silent for a moment, and then something occurred to Arik. He spoke up tentatively. "Dragonsreach was given it's name for good reason."

Ulfric's attention snapped to him, catching on immediately to what he meant. "That's genius."

"One of you had better fill the rest of us in!" Galmar prompted impatiently.

Esbern jumped in excitedly. "The palace at Whiterun was once extended to house the device built to trap the dragon Numinex. It was a way to further humiliate him after his defeat at the hands of Olaf One-Eye. The trap is still in place and could, in theory, be used to trap a dragon again."

Arik nodded. "Exactly."

Ulfric reached out his great paw of a hand and squeezed Arik's shoulder. "I can understand why my niece is so fond of you!" He turned to Morrin. "Fetch me some parchment and a quill."

Arik blushed and looked down at his lap, face burning. He had to admit, it did feel good to hear something like that, especially from Ulfric.

"We must send a courier to Jarl Balgruuf and explain our discovery." Ulfric took the parchment from Morrin and set it down.

"We are forgetting one thing, my Jarl." Esbern spoke up.

"What is that?" The Jarl glanced up at him.

"How do we lure a dragon to Whiterun?"

Ulfric paused, setting down the quill. His brow furrowed. They hadn't thought of that.

"We do have a Dragonborn...perhaps simply hearing her Shout will be enough to draw one in?"

Esbern thought this over. "I suppose that is all we have to go on."

They all took pause after that, and silence descended again. Arik wished he could ask Arngeir. At the thought, he felt a fresh flash of the memory and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing it away.

_So many things haunt me._

"For now, this much of the plan will have to do." Ulfric agreed, and then he began to write.

**F I N A**

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set when she spotted the massive black horse on the side of the trail. Fina pulled Vokun up short and he skid to a halt beside the creature. It nickered, tossing its head over its shoulder, almost as if gesturing.

Working on instinct, Fina dropped from the saddle, body protesting vehemently. She reached out tentatively to the black horse, and it let her touch its nose. She looked past him and could see the form of a fallen body.

Her heart began to jump in its bone cage. She walked forwards and recognised the armour at once. Blade armour. Fina froze, watching the body for signs of life. There were none - as she looked closer, she could see that many of the limbs seemed to have been crushed by something heavy.

As she stood over the body, she felt a rush of relief. Delphine. She checked for a pulse, but she knew there was no chance she was alive, not with the injuries she bore. Her body was cold to the touch.

Fina nearly collapsed right there and slept, she was that exhausted - then she heard a groan. She jumped, hoping wildly that whatever had killed Delphine wasn't now after her. When she spun towards the noise, she saw another body - this one still moved.

As she neared it, she immediately recognised the Dark Brotherhood colours. It was a girl, small and as her eyes flickered open…

_The girl from Ivarstead!_

Fina hurried towards her, seeing the blood pooling sticky and dark over her stomach.

"Dragonb-" The girl winced, mouth clamping shut again. She didn't need to finish - Fina could see the plea in her eyes. This girl - assassin or not - had saved Fina. She would return the favour.

"It's okay. I won't leave you." She touched the girl's shoulder and, seemingly reassured, she closed her eyes.

Fina stood up and returned to Vokun, rifling through the saddle bag until she found a spare tunic and her waterskin. She had a half bottle full of healing potion left, and took it with her back to the fallen assassin.

She set to work, cutting open her shirt and ripping strips of cloth from the tunic to sop up as much of the blood as she could. Once she had cleaned it as best she could, she washed it with the water. The girl didn't move, and Fina knew she'd fallen unconscious. If it wasn't for the weak pulse in her wrist, she would have appeared dead.

The wound was not nearly as deep as it had looked and as long as Fina hurried, the girl had a good chance of surviving.

Fina pulled away the cowl and mask from the girl's head, gasping when she saw how young she was. _She's barely more than a child!_

She uncorked the healing potion and carefully trickled it past the girl's lips, tilting her head up so it would go down her throat. It wouldn't do much besides slow the bleeding, but it was enough.

When she turned, the black horse was behind her and it lay itself down on the ground.

"Aren't you smart?" Fina murmured to it, patting its head. With some difficulty, she lifted the girl and draped her over the saddle, using a strap from one of the saddlebags to tie her in place. The horse stood, waiting patiently as Fina caught her breath.

She needed stamina potions if she planned to make it back to Windhelm and remain conscious. Fina poked through the girl's bags and, with a cry of delight, pulled free two stamina potions.

She downed one quickly, feeling the immediate rush of energy she needed. Now she was confident she could make it back in one piece.

Fina pulled the black horse's reins over its head so she could lead him back to the road. Vokun stood still, panting a little. She knew that she'd need to find water soon. She tucked the precious stamina potion away and mounted, securing the other horse's reins to her saddle.

"Let's go home, Vokun."

 


	19. Sleep

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik and Esbern had just been served their evening meal in the main hall when the doors flew open and four men poured in. Between them, they carried two bodies.

The guards at the doors looked at them incredulously, and after they understood what their eyes showed them, they snapped into action.

"Send for healers!" One of them told the other, who hurried out the door.

Arik jumped to his feet, watching as the remaining guard lead the men down the hall and towards a room containing several beds in a row. When the men settled the two bodies onto the beds, Arik caught a glimpse of who they were.

 _Fina._  He hurried forwards, meaning to go to her, but one of the men stopped him.

"Go for Jarl Ulfric!" Arik swallowed back his retort and nodded, giving a last look to the pale, motionless figure of Fina.

He turned and walked around Esbern, who had followed him in.

"I know some healing." He heard the old man say.

"Jarl Ulfric!" He bellowed, racing up the stairs towards the man's room. Ulfric met him in the corridor, face a tired mask - he'd been resting.

"What is it, son?"

Arik couldn't even speak. His body shook and he gave a tug to the Jarl's arm. "Fina." He managed to choke.

Ulfric's face grew serious and he hurried down the steps after Arik, following him into the room with the beds.

The healer had just arrived, and was at Fina's side examining her. "I see no wounds." She said, light glowing from her fingertips as she swept over her body. "It is very likely just exhaustion."

"She hasn't rested for days." Ulfric confirmed, and the healer clucked disapprovingly.

She looked so small and fragile there on the bed, reminding Arik of the night in the courtyard when she had been meant to kill Paarthurnax. A bout of powerful emotion overtook him and he pressed his back against the wall so he would stay standing.

The healer handed Ulfric a potion. "Get this down her throat. It's a simple healing potion. What she needs most is sleep."

She moved to the other bed, and Arik looked at the other body for the first time. Esbern had ripped away the cloth covering a wound on the figure's stomach.

"Who is the girl?" One of the men asked a guard, but he shook his head.

"No idea. I've never seen her."

Arik recognised the clothing she wore - it was just like what the Dark Brotherhood assassin had been wearing when she warned them about Delphine. His eyes reached the girl's face and suddenly he was hit hard with realisation.

" _Syra!_ "

He hadn't seen her for three years and he could hardly recognise her, cheeks hollow and smeared with dirt. She was so much more hardened and mature, any girlish roundness gone. But it was her. He was sure of it.

Arik was at her side in an instant and Esbern moved aside. The healer had her hands over the wound in Syra's stomach, and the skin was knitting itself together right before his eyes. He took one of Syra's hands, and her eyes fluttered.

"Syra, what in Kyne's name…" He murmured, brushing a stray lock of golden hair from her forehead. Her black-rimmed eyes opened and their familiar grey flickered across his face.

"Arik?"

"It's me. I'm here." He felt tears well in his eyes. Syra fell still and the healer shook her head.

"She has lost a lot of blood. I can heal the wound, but the rest is up to her." She handed a healing potion to Arik. "This will help, but I have no doubt she will remain unconscious for several days while her body heals itself."

He nodded, accepting the potion. The healer moved back over to Ulfric and Fina, speaking to the Jarl.

Arik turned his attention back to Syra and snaked his hand around the back of her neck so he could tip the healing potion through her lips. Much to his relief, it seemed to go down well.

Ulfric stooped and picked Fina up in his arms, no doubt taking her to her room where she would be more comfortable.

"Who is she?" Esbern was standing over his shoulder.

"We grew up in the orphanage in Whiterun together. She is like a sister to me." Arik pressed the back of her hand to his lips. "I haven't seen her in three years."

"Did you know she was part of the Brotherhood?" Esbern asked, gesturing to her clothing.

"No." He shook his head, wondering wildly what on Nirn had possessed her to join a band of assassins. "No, I didn't."

_What are you doing, Syra?_

After some time, Ulfric returned and came to stand over Syra's bed.

"You know her?"

Arik repeated what he had told Esbern.

"I find it hard to believe Fina would bring an assassin into my city, but she must have had good reason." He crossed his arms and frowned. "The men who brought her in say that they found them both passed out on their horses, just shy of the stables. This one," He gestured to Syra, "Was draped over her saddle, so it seems Fina must have put her there. Fina herself was slumped forward, like she'd fallen asleep."

"If they were both unconscious, how did the horses find their way?" Esbern inquired.

"Talos only knows." Ulfric shook his head. "Can you lift her, Arik? We will take her to a private room. I intend to post a guard at her door, I hope you understand."

"Of course." Arik nodded. They could hardly leave a member of the Dark Brotherhood unattended in the palace.

Arik bent and carefully lifted Syra into his arms, following Ulfric up the stairs and into a room smaller than his own. He set Syra on the bed.

"How is Fina?" He asked, trying to carefully hide his eagerness.

"She will recover. She just needs sleep." Ulfric frowned. "I will send a woman to clean her up."

He turned and left, closing the door behind him. Arik perched on the side of the bed, smoothing his fingers over Syra's cheeks and nose. She was nearly a stranger to him now, far from the joyful little girl he remembered.

"What are you doing, Syra?" He asked her again, shaking his head.

_How different would things be if I had never left Whiterun?_

Arik sat with her like this until a servant girl came in, sent to wash and change her. He left reluctantly and looked down the hall to where Fina's room was.

The door was open a crack. The temptation was too great and he walked towards it, peeking in. No one else was there.

Arik checked both ways down the hall and when he saw the way was clear, he snuck inside. The room smelled of soap and clean linen. Someone had already been in and cleaned Fina up. Her hair was washed and brushed, fanned out of the pillow beside her like a blooming red flower. Her face was a smooth sheet of ivory, free of any worry or pain.

The same overwhelming emotion that struck him earlier was back again. His very heart ached inside his chest and he walked towards her, tears wet on his cheeks.

He knelt, resting his head on the bed beside her. "Divines, Fina. I thought maybe I'd lost you."

"Not that easily." She murmured sleepily, reaching out to touch his hair. Arik jumped, looking up at her. She smiled and that expression was such a relief that he began to cry in earnest, body shivering with it.

"Hush, Arik. What is it?" Her voice sounded groggy, but she moved over in the bed and pulled the blankets up so that he could get in beside her.

Arik shook his head mutely, feeling like a complete fool. He kicked his boots off and then crawled in beside her. Fina nuzzled her face against his neck and he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her close against his chest.

"Fina."

"Hmmm?"

"I never should have said what I did in that cave. I never should have doubted for a moment."

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, playing with his hair.

His body shuddered at the feeling and his eyes squeezed shut, breathing in the scent of her.

"This isn't a dream is it?" Fina's voice was barely audible.

"No, it's real."

"Thank Talos. I don't think I could have made it any further."

He chuckled and she pulled her hand from his head and submerged it under the covers, running it up under his tunic so it rested on his bare back.

"Stay here." She whispered, and he nodded, feeling her press a warm kiss against his collarbone. From her breathing, he could tell she had fallen asleep.

For the first time since Ivarstead, Arik fully submitted to sleep.

**F I N A**

* * *

When Fina woke up, she was surrounded by warmth. There was an arm around her, and her back was resting against someone's chest. She blinked in the light streaming in through the window, not knowing where she was for a moment.

She twisted her head, peeking over her shoulder.  _Arik._  She smiled, relieved to see the look of quiet peace on his face. Talos knew he needed it.

Movement at the door drew her attention, and her eyes darted up. Ulfric stood in the doorway, eyebrows up as he took in the sight of Fina and Arik together.

Careful not to disturb Arik, she slipped out from under his arm. Her muscles were so sore and tight that her body felt numb, but she was refreshed, feeling like she'd been asleep for days.

She followed Ulfric into the hall and softly closed the door behind her.

He crossed his arms, giving her a look.

"Don't give me that look, Uncle. It isn't as if we were naked." She whispered sternly.

Ulfric kept up his tight-lipped mask for a moment, before it softened and he pulled her into a hug. Fina hugged him back, letting all of her breath out in a rush. She was so happy to be back in Windhelm.

"You've been asleep for the last day and a half!" He told her. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever wake."

"Arik too?"

"Aye, he's been there the whole time. It's a good thing I've kept your Mother out of the room!" Ulfric's eyes were full of silent questions, but Fina didn't answer them.

"I doubt he's slept since we left Ivarstead."

"He's a good lad. Smart."

Fina nodded, looking past him and down the hall. An image of him consumed her mind, a rock poised in his arms, coming down over and over. Blood on his face. She blinked it away.

"Delphine?" Her Uncle asked.

"Dead."

"I knew you could manage." He nodded approvingly.

"I didn't. The girl did."

"From the Brotherhood?"

"Yes. Is she well?"

"She lost a lot of blood. She hasn't woken yet, still looks a bit ashen."

Fina frowned. "She is the one who warned us about Delphine to begin with. How she knew where to find her…" She drifted off.

"The boy knows her."

"Arik?"

"Aye, grew up with her."

"In the orphanage?"

Ulfric nodded. Fina shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Strange.

"You should rest some more." Ulfric told her. "We have much to fill you in on, but it can wait. I want you to be your best."

"I'll stay with Arik until he wakes." She replied, rolling her shoulders. "There isn't anything urgent?"

"No. We're waiting for a courier to return before anything can be done. Sleep, niece." He kissed her brow.

Fina smiled at him and then went back into the room. Arik was still asleep, but he'd rolled onto his back. His mouth had fallen open slightly, and she covered her mouth to stifle her laugh at the sight of him.

She slid back into the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his middle and drawing the blankets up around them. He stirred, arm coming to fall along her back.

Fina sighed contentedly and felt Arik's fingers brush across her arm. She lifted her chin to look at him and his eyes were open, glowing amber as the light hit them. She smiled at him.

"Hello."

"Hello." He replied shyly, his cheeks turning pink. Fina laughed and propped herself up on her elbow so she hovered over him.

"We've been asleep for more than a day." She told him, tracing his cheek and chin with her free hand.

"I could sleep for three more."

"Aye." She agreed, biting at her lip as she watched him. He looked back, and a small silence descended over them.

Slowly, Fina leaned down and ghosted her lips over his; in response his mouth parted and a sigh escaped him.

Fina smiled and kissed him in earnest. When Arik reciprocated, her whole body buzzed with the taste of him and the gentle feeling of his lips. In some ways, it felt to her like they had just kissed for the first time.

Her stomach fluttered, feeling as though a flower had bloomed inside of her. Arik's fingers ran over her shoulder and down her arm until he reached her hand, drawing goosebumps from her in their wake.

Fina laced their fingers together and pressed his hand into the pillow beside his head, using it for support as she moved to straddle his stomach. She mirrored the action with his other hand, pinning him beneath her.

She hovered over him, suddenly very aware that all she wore was a thin, sleeveless shift. Fina kissed him again, struggling to keep herself from being too forceful. She understood that Arik was inexperienced and that it would be easy for him to be overwhelmed if she went too quickly.

His lips were soft and responsive, opening for her instinctively when she ran her tongue against his teeth. Fina curled her tongue against his and he pushed up into her mouth. She sucked gently on the tip of his tongue, eliciting a small noise of surprise from him.

Fina pulled away, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. He was flushed and his eyes were golden, pupils dilated.

"Okay?" She whispered, and he nodded. Fina smiled and pressed her lips to his cheek. She kissed down his jaw, scratched her teeth gently over the stubble there, and worked her way down the side of his neck. He turned his head, granting her access and she rewarded him by pressing wet kisses down to his shoulder.

His hands struggled a little in her grip, and she could tell he was itching to touch her. Fina sat up and let them go. She pushed herself a bit further down him, until her bottom rested over his quickly developing hardness.

He looked nervous when he realised she had noticed and covered his face, shaking his head.

"Arik." She murmured, resting her hands on his chest. Fina kept grip of her patience and waited for him to move his hands. When he did, she touched his cheek. "Do you want to stop?"

He looked at her in stunned silence, not making any answer. She pushed her fingers under the hem of his tunic, settling them against the soft trail of down on his stomach. Arik squeezed his eyes shut and she felt him harden further beneath her.

Taking that as a cue to keep going, she pushed his tunic up all the way. He lifted his arms for her and she pulled it over his head, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. When she kissed him again, it was he who was hungry for it.

His hands came to rest on her sides, massaging at her through the fabric of her shift. She kissed him back with equal fervor, catching his lower lip between her teeth and taking it into her mouth. She kept it there until it was red and swollen.

When they pulled apart for breath, she dropped her mouth to the side of his face, running her tongue slowly up the side of his ear. He shivered, hands tightening where he held her. Arik pushed his hips up into her shyly and she smirked.

"Arik." She whispered, nipping playfully at the lobe of his ear. Fina sat up and pulled his hands from her hips. She slid them up her sides slowly over her shift, watching his face for a reaction.

Arik gazed at her with a curious wonder, mouth opening to form an 'o' when she pressed his palms into her breasts. She held them there for a moment and then let go, leaving him to take control himself.

He cupped them gently, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples through the thin fabric. They grew taut at his touch, causing Fina to inhale sharply from the pleasure of it. Encouraged, Arik repeated the action, also massaging the small mounds with his fingers. Fina's eyes slid shut, enjoying the feeling and not remembering a time anyone else had made her feel this way. Even just with that thought, Fina felt herself moisten.

"Fina." Her eyes opened and she blinked down at him. Arik's face was filled with need, and she realised he probably didn't even fully understand what it was he needed.

She grabbed for the hem of her shift and pulled it up to her hips, leaving her core vulnerable and bare before him. Fina leaned over again, her long hair creating a veil around them as she captured his lips. She took one of his hands and directed it down between them, pressing his fingers against her wetness and whimpering into his mouth at the contact.

Arik gasped a little, breaking away, eyes wide as he watched her face. Fina moved his hand, stroking his fingers up and down between the soft folds of her sex. She buried her face in his neck and his free hand came up to weave into her hair.

"Oh,  _Divines_ , Fina." He mumbled, pressing hot kisses to the side of her neck. Arik tentatively moved his fingers on his own, vigorously enough that Fina let him go, her hips giving an involuntary jerk downwards.

He continued for a minute and Fina found her legs quivering as she struggled to stay braced on her knees.

"Is that okay?" His voice was small, breath hot against her neck.

"Oh…" She pressed herself against his hand, moaning. "Sweet - ,  _yes_!"

Fina knew her body well enough to know that even with how amazing this felt, Arik was inexperienced and if she were to seek release, it would be at her own hand. After a few more minutes of him rubbing, she stopped his hand.

She kissed him, pressing her tongue into his mouth to ease any doubts that the gesture might cause. Fina pulled his hand upwards, looking him in the eye as she drew his fingers into her mouth and slowly sucked her essence off of his skin. Her own taste mixed with the salt-and-musk of him was a delicious mix and she sighed happily, wanting to show him just how much she enjoyed it.

Arik's gaze was locked onto her mouth, eyes glazed over, watching her enjoy her own taste. When she finished, she kissed him again, letting him taste her, too.

He groaned in response, running his hands up her bare thighs. Fina pulled away to look at him. She ran her fingers over his cheek, feeling her entire body pulse in time with her rapidly beating heart. At the tender look in his eyes, her stomach blossomed with a nervous flittering again. She gave pause, wondering at the feeling...and that was when she realised what it was.

_Stendarr's mercy...I'm in love with him, aren't I?_

"Fina?" Arik brushed the hair from her face, expression full of concern.

She smiled and kissed his brow, rolling so she lay beside him. He turned onto his side to look at her.

"What is it?"

Fina swallowed and glanced up at him. She reached for his hand, running her fingers against his.

"Nothing." She murmured. "I'm just...glad you're here."

He searched her face like he was unsure if she was telling the truth, but then he kissed her. "I am too."

As Arik leaned closer, she felt the press of his length against her hip. Fina felt herself swell with unmet need, but knew that now was not the right time - not when it would be Arik's first time.

Still, though...there was something else she could do. Fina let go of his hand and reached down, fingers brushing against the waist of his trousers. Arik looked down between them, watching her movements.

Fina worked the ties loose, tugging them open until there was room enough for her to slip her hand inside. His body was tense as he anticipated her touch, and he groaned as she gently took hold of him.

"Fina. You should know...I've never - I mean -" She stopped her motion and shut him up with a kiss.

"I know, Arik. Let me do this for you."

He nodded, mouth sliding shut. Fina held his eyes and worked her hand up and down against him. Arik looked at her for as long as he could, but then he threw his head back, rolling his body flat, hands fisting the linens below.

The effect Fina could see she was having on him was intoxicating. She shifted so that she was kneeling between his legs and hooked her fingers into the waist of his trousers. Arik lifted his hips for her and she tugged them down until they were around his knees.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

He nodded his understanding and then gasped as her lips closed around the head of his cock, tongue swirling over the tight-stretched arousal-swollen skin. She could taste the bitter, saltiness of him as she moved her head up and down, alternating sucking and running her tongue up and down his shaft.

Arik moaned so loudly that he had to bite down on his hand and Fina looked up at him, making eye contact. She had never fully understood why, but knew that men found it added to their pleasure.

"Fina - I'm...going - "

She knew what he was going to say, but carried on anyway. It wasn't long before he released himself in her mouth. Fina had never particularly liked the taste, but she swallowed without complaint, giving one last lick before she sat back.

Arik looked as though he were caught between euphoria and embarrassment, which was a strange combination. He opened his mouth, but Fina didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. She crawled towards him and kissed him before he had the chance to speak. He relaxed, cupping her face and returning it eagerly.

When they pulled apart, she grinned at him. He smiled back hesitantly and then pulled his trousers up, obviously still a little self-conscious. They sat facing each other, and Fina was content just to watch his face. He watched back and then reached out for her hand, pressing it to his lips. Suddenly, his expression grew serious.

"When you didn't come back with the others…" Arik looked down.

"But I did come back." She whispered, squeezing his hand. "I'll always come back."

He nodded.

"Who is she, Arik?"

He glanced up, surprised. Understanding her meaning, he began to speak. "Her name is Syra. We grew up together and she was like a sister to me." Arik smiled fondly at the memory. "She was such a sweet little girl. Sensitive, kind…" He drifted off.

"Do you have any idea what happened?"  _How does someone like her end up with the Brotherhood?_

He shook his head. "I haven't seen her for three years. I have no idea. I never in my life would have thought…"

"She saved us, though. She killed Delphine. She nearly got herself killed in the process, but it was her. Not me."

"Truly?"

Fina nodded. "I came across them in the woods after it was already done. She was lying there...I couldn't leave her. She's so young, Arik."

"I'm glad you didn't." He sighed. "She must be nearly sixteen now." Arik paused. "Has she woken up yet?"

"Not yet." Fina shook her head. "You should go to her, though. My Uncle needs to catch me up on what I've missed."

He nodded, but pulled her in for another kiss. Fina sighed contentedly and beamed at him.  _I love you._  She told him silently.  _Talos help me, but I do._

 


	20. Of Few Words

**Trigger Warning: Syra's section of this chapter contains mentions of sexual abuse. If this is a sensitive topic for you, you may want to skip it.**

* * *

**A R I K**

* * *

If there had been any doubt before, there could be none now: Arik had well and truly broken his vows.

He sat in Fina's bed, watching as she pulled a pair of soft leather leggings up under her shift.

"Don't look!" She scolded and he obediently covered his eyes, listening to the rustling of fabric and the opening and closing of the wardrobe as she finished dressing.

"Alright."

Arik opened his eyes and saw her standing over her wash basin, wiping her face clean. When she finished, she brushed out her hair, letting it fall freely in long waves down her back.

_She is so beautiful._

His entire being was pulled to her, wanting to be near her, to hold her - but he stayed put. His body was still ringing with the feeling of her lips where he'd never felt lips before, pulsing from the pleasure she'd given him. Arik felt himself stir again just at the thought of it.

Fina must have felt his eyes, for she looked over at him, brows risen in question. He smiled sheepishly and got to his feet, fishing his shirt from the floor and pulling it back on. He still felt self-conscious at the idea she had seen him in such a vulnerable position, despite how gentle and understanding she had been.

Arik shied at the thought, brushing his fingers through his hair. Fina touched his arm, tilting her head as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" There was a nervousness to her posture, the way she seemed to be holding herself a calculated distance away. It occurred to him that she might think she'd frightened him off again. Well, this was much different than seeing her kill.

"Of course." Arik nodded firmly and snaked an arm around her, drawing her close. He sighed when she wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of her head. "I wish we could stay here."

Her laugh was muffled by his chest. "Responsibilities!" She huffed with mock anger. Arik let her go and she leaned up to peck his cheek.

"I'll see you soon."

Arik nodded and watched her walk out of the room, leaving him with the lingering scent of her hair. His stomach growled, and he grabbed an apple from the table on his way out.

The palace was cold and he found himself shivering a little as he neared the room they had Syra in. As Ulfric had said, there was a guard posted outside.

"Is it alright if I - ?" He gestured at the door. The guard nodded and stood aside.

Arik walked in, and much to his disgust he saw they had one of Syra's wrists chained to the bed. He closed the door behind him and came to sit in the chair beside her, watching as she slept. She had grown paler since he'd last seen her, if that was possible.

He reached out and touched her unbound hand, fearing for a moment it would be cold. To his relief, she was still warm. Arik sighed and leaned back, nearly eating the apple whole - it was becoming abundantly clear just how long he'd been asleep.

Syra stirred in her sleep, a moan escaping her lips. Arik set the apple core aside and pulled his chair closer to the bed, pressing his hand to her forehead.

"You always did sleep too much." He told her softly, trying to keep the worry from his voice. "If you wake up, I'll give you ten sweetrolls."

She was silent, breath shallow in her chest, face set and tense even while unconscious.

**F I N A**

* * *

The entire battle room fell silent when she walked in. Fina stood uncertainly in the door, stopping short and looking around at them all.

Esbern, Galmar, Ulfric, Jorleif, and several soldiers whose names she didn't recall stood around the table. Ulfric responded first, waving her over.

"Fina!" He said warmly, putting his arm around her shoulders as she came to stand beside him.

"Hello." She smiled at them all, and they mumbled greetings cloaked in a nervous energy.

"Welcome home, my girl!" Galmar grinned at her.

"Dragonborn." Esbern said respectfully.

"I'm glad to see you're here, Esbern." She said pointedly, and he nodded.

"I am glad to be here."

"What have I missed, then?"

Ulfric gestured and Jorleif brought up a chair for her. Fina gripped his arm before she sat, happier than she'd ever been to see the steward. His eyes were warm as he bowed and stepped back.

Fina took her seat, listening as Ulfric launched into their plan.

When he finished, Fina sat in stunned silence. Capture a dragon? In Whiterun?

"So let me get this straight." She said, clasping her hands in her lap. "The plan is to capture a dragon, convince it to betray Alduin and show me his whereabouts, hopefully ride said dragon to Alduin's temple, kill a dragon priest, take it's staff, and  _enter a portal to Sovngarde to slay Alduin?_ "

"Well…"

Fina put up her hand to silence him. "Not to mention that our only theory on how to attract a dragon in the first place is for me to Shout...which, in all honesty, I am less than confident in."

Ulfric frowned, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Yes."

Fina dropped her head into her hands. "Talos help me. Help us all!"

"If you have any other suggestions, my dear…?" Esbern offered without hope.

"I truly wish I did, Esbern."

"We've been going over this for days, Fina. We can't see any other way."

She grunted, rubbing at her head and wishing desperately she could go back to sleep.

"What else is a Dragonborn for, I suppose?"

Ulfric opened his mouth to speak, but there was a shout from the main hall.

"Jarl Ulfric! A courier!"

A man skidded to a stop in the doorway, letter in hand. Ulfric stepped forward and snatched it free. He waved at Jorleif, who paid the courier with a purse of coins.

Ulfric ripped open the seal on the letter and skimmed it. "It's from Balgruuf." He continued reading, and his face turned whiter and whiter with each line.

Fina stood and rescued the letter before Ulfric could crush it. She skimmed it and understood his reaction immediately. She shook her head, aghast.

"What does it say?" Galmar demanded.

"Jarl Balgruuf will not consider our plan unless the Imperials and Stormcloaks have negotiated peace. He doesn't want to chance it, in case he incurs the Imperial's wrath by giving the impression he is siding with us."

"The coward!" Ulfric spat, kicking the chair over Fina had been sitting in. It clattered to the floor and splintered where it struck the bare stone. "If he is a true Nord, he should be proud to be on our side!"

She sighed and passed the letter to Galmar who read it over himself. He cursed and dropped it onto the table, leaning forward on his closed fists and staring at the map as if it could divulge the answers they needed.

"It's that Talos-forsaken Dunmer whore of his! Perhaps he's no better than the filthy, buggering  _mer_  himself!"

"What now?" Galmar asked, watching Ulfric pace back and forth.

"It could be temporary, Uncle." Fina soothed, trying to remain calm in the midst of his outburst.

Ulfric turned to her, eyes hard. "What are you suggesting?"

"We could negotiate temporary peace until the dragons have been dealt with." When she saw the anger rebuild on his face, she hurried on. "You said yourself that the dragons were attacking our armies!"

The Jarl looked like he wanted to strangle someone. He covered his face, roaring in frustration.

"If we share a common enemy, it would make sense to set our differences aside, even for a short time."

"I don't like it." Galmar said, crossing his arms.

"I  _will not_  discuss terms of peace with those sacrilegious bastards!"

She heard someone enter the room behind them, but was so focused on their conversation that she didn't bother turning to see who it was.

Now Fina lost her temper too, voice rising as she yelled at him. "You are impossible, old man! Look beyond yourself, beyond the mer! I have been given the task of saving Tamriel, not just the true Nords. There are things in work greater than just the Stormcloak Rebellion!"

"That is treason!" He shouted back.

"If that is treason, I was born a traitor." She hissed. "I did not choose this, it was thrust upon me by Talos himself! Is he a traitor too?"

"Be quiet! Both of you!" It was Lenora. She walked around to stand beside Galmar, hands on her hips as she looked between Fina and Ulfric. "You shame yourselves."

Ulfric looked stricken and his eyes fell, mouth slamming shut. His body shook as he took deep breath after deep breath. Galmar and Esbern stared at them in stunned silence.

The Jarl turned and sank onto one of the benches against the wall, shaking his head, eyes sad. "Forgive me, my dear."

Fina felt her body relax, and she put a hand on her brow, sighing. She glanced at her Mother, who gave her a look. Fina glowered at her like a petulant child, but tried to gather her serenity as she spoke.

"I know it is a difficult thing, Uncle. I don't forget the trials the Imperials have put our people through. We have both experienced it first hand - they nearly executed us, for Talos' sake! I am not suggesting forgiveness, simply patience."

"You have not read the letters, Fina. The things they intended to do to you…"

"Neither of us would have allowed that to happen, Uncle."

"That is beside the point! How could I stand to be in the same room as Tullius and resist cleaving the head from his shoulders?"

"With the strength and wisdom of the great leader you are, my Jarl." Jorleif spoke up, filling the silence with his soft words. He rested a hand on Ulfric's shoulder.

Although the steward was a man of few words, Fina had always found that when he did speak, it was well worth listening. He reminded her of Arik in that regard.

Ulfric looked a little forlorn, but nodded grimly. His jaw clenched as he thought it over. When at last he spoke, the words came out with some difficulty. "I do not suppose it would be for long."

"Aye, and it would give us time to regroup where we have been hit." Galmar chimed in, having visibly relaxed himself.

"Good." Lenora chirped, smiling brightly at them both. She came to stand by Fina, who wrapped her arms around her.

"Hi Mama."

"Hello, darling." She rubbed her back soothingly.

"Very well. How do we go about this?" Ulfric's voice remained tight.

"The peace talks of the past have traditionally been held at High Hrothgar under the guidance of the Greybeards." Esbern interjected.

Fina felt her stomach twist painfully at the thought of returning there and she let Lenora go. Ulfric glanced at her quizzically.

"When Arik and I left, Wulfgar said we could write him if we should need anything. If it was staged at High Hrothgar, it would also mean I could speak with Arngeir and Paarthurnax." She swallowed.

_If they could even bare to look at me._

"We will draft letters to Tullius, Jarl Balgruuf, and Elder Wulfgar with our proposal." Ulfric sounded weary.

"I think it would be best if Arik wrote to Wulfgar." She paused. "Should we also ask Mejel to represent the Reach?"

The Jarl set his jaw and swallowed his pride. "So be it."

**xxxxx**

Lenora stole her daughter, taking her back to their home and setting her at the table with a bowl of her famous venison stew and a fresh loaf of brown bread.

Ulfric hadn't dared to protest as they left.

Fina ate until she had polished off three full bowls and her stomach groaned in protest at the amount it was meant to hold. It had been surviving on stamina potions and dried meat alone for days - it wasn't used to such richness.

"I fear you may have unwittingly brought me closer to death." She complained, leaning back and resting a hand on her bulging gut.

"Don't be dramatic, Fina." Lenora settled herself in a chair before the fire, picking up a ball of woolen yarn and two long bone needles. She started to knit, and Fina closed her eyes, listening to the clicking noise the needles made as they glanced off of each other. She couldn't even count the number of times she'd sat in this exact spot listening to the same noise.

"Are you making me some new mittens?"

"Why, so you can lose them again?"

Fina snorted and then regretted it, finding any movement hurt when she was so stuffed.

"Ulfric told me you've been through quite an ordeal." She said calmly, but Fina knew her well enough to tell there was worry beneath those words.

She got up from the table and drew up a chair next to her mother, picking up the ball of yarn and unrolling several feet of it while her mother worked.

"As much as can be expected as the Dragonborn."

Lenora frowned, her hands stopping. She looked up at Fina. "I would have picked a simpler life for you." She said softly, patting her cheek.

"I know, Mama." Her words were serious, but she winked. "But someone has to save Tamriel. Talos knows it couldn't be a  _man_."

Her mother laughed, shaking her head and going back to her work. "You're right there, Fini."

They lapsed into an easy silence, the soft  _click click click_  nearly lulling Fina to sleep.

"Who is the young man you brought with you from the south?" Lenora asked conversationally.

Fina wasn't fooled. She sat up straight and gave a little cough into the back of her hand. Suddenly the fire felt far too hot on her face. She saw the corner of her mother's mouth twitch in amusement.

"Arik?"

"Arik." She confirmed.

"He - uh. He was a Greybeard."

"Your Uncle mentioned that he didn't leave them on the best of terms."

"You could say that."

"Hmmm." Now Lenora grinned in full, still staring down at the yarn in her hands. "Something about breaking a vow…?"

Fina felt her over-full belly toss uncomfortably. "If you have something to say, Mama, just say it!" She cried in frustration, nearly dropping the ball of wool and cursing absently as she snatched it before it hit the ground.

"Fina!" She scolded her. "There is no need for that tone."

" _Mama_!"

"Yes, yes, okay. Well, Ulfric  _had_  mentioned that you seemed quite fond of the lad...we had both wondered if -"

"If what?"

"You know very well what I'm getting at, young lady!"

Fina's mouth dropped open and the two women stared at each other. After a moment's silence, Lenora began to laugh, her face jiggling merrily as she did.

"Oh darling, your face." She laughed so hard she had to reach up to wipe tears from her eyes.

Fina could feel the blush consume her features and she couldn't help but smile. "Alright, alright." She sighed. "There is something to it, but Mara only knows what."

"It must be serious enough if we're bringing  _Mara_  into it."

"Be honest - the only reason you're so interested is because you're dying for grandchildren! I know you and Papa were married at my age." She grumbled and Lenora laughed. "You're just worried if I wait around much longer I'll be a barren old maid."

"Well, now that you mention it…"

"Shameless woman! I'm only twenty-one!" Fina swatted playfully at her arm and they both started laughing again.

"So when do I get to meet him?"

Fina groaned.

**S Y R A**

* * *

_Alright, little one. It's time to wake up._  On command, Syra's eyes opened and she gasped as she became aware of her body. Her eyes stung from the light and she pressed a hand over them, groaning in pain; there was a tight, sore feeling in her gut.

"Syra?"

_I wish I were dead._

"Syra, can you hear me?" The voice was familiar, but she still felt like she needed to escape. Whoever it was touched her shoulder and she moved her free hand to swat at them, but found she couldn't. Chains jangled by her head.

Her eyes opened and she turned to look. Her left wrist was chained to the side of the bed.

_What in Sithis' name…_

_My Listener, chained like a dog!_

"Syra." The voice said again, and finally she turned to look at them, ready to curse their name and demand they let her go.

Her eyes widened when she recognised who it was. "Arik?"

"Hello there."

"Where am I?"

"Windhelm."

" _Windhelm_?" She hissed and tried to sit up. Between the chain, the pounding in her head, and the pain in her stomach, she didn't succeed. "Why am I here and  _why_  am I chained to a bed?"

"Fina found you near death and brought you here. You're chained to the bed because you're a Dark Brotherhood assassin and Ulfric doesn't trust you. There's also a guard at your door." He gestured to it as he spoke.

"Charming." Syra grunted, and reached down to pull up the edge of the white cotton shirt they'd put her in. There was a jagged scar across her gut. She thought back, remembering the sting of Delphine's blade.

Arik stood and grabbed a cup from the table and came to sit on the bed beside her. Syra felt suddenly shy of him and pulled her shirt back down.

"Here." He passed her the cup and she sniffed it. Water. She downed in, throat dry. Arik took the cup back and got up to fill it again.

"Aren't you supposed to be up in the mountains chanting or something?" She finished off another cup and then he handed her a bowl of what looked like cold porridge.

He shrugged. "Aren't you supposed to be...well...not an assassin?" Syra tried not to flinch at the tone of his voice.

She didn't respond, awkwardly setting the bowl in her lap and spooning the sticky-sweet mixture into her mouth. Syra wasn't sure anything had ever tasted as good.

Arik sat in silence until she was finished. He took her bowl without a word and handed her another cup of water.

Finally, he sighed and sat back beside her again.

"Syra -"

"You didn't write." The words escaped without her permission and she pressed a hand over her mouth.

"I wanted to. They wouldn't allow it." There was genuine regret in his voice - something she was so unused to hearing.

She bit her tongue, staring down at the chains.

"Syra, what happened?" Arik's voice was a soft, the same gentle tone he used to use when she was upset or frightened as a child.

When she didn't move, he reached out and touched her chin, turning her face so she had to look at him. Syra could only bear to look at the kindness in his eyes a moment before she tugged her chin away and stared out the window.

"I was adopted not long after you left." She started. "It was a man - Dilan - and his young wife, Mila. They needed help with the harvest - Mila was with child." The words felt automatic as they left her mouth. "It seemed fine, at first. The woman was quiet, the man worked all day. But then I noticed the drinking."

Her throat seized up painfully. She had only ever eluded at this story to Ljorn, but never told it in its entirety. Outside, the sun was swallowed by grey clouds.

"He was always drunk. Always. He would get so angry, at anything. At everything. The food was too hot, the food was too cold, the floor wasn't swept, she wasn't wearing the dress he liked, I wasn't clean enough…He used to tell me he would throw me to wolves once the harvest was over. Like I was a leftover bone from dinner. Every night he told me that - for two years - and I believed him."

Arik reached out and touched her hand. She looked down at it, knowing that New Syra would pull away. But this was Arik. She didn't need to be New Syra, not with him.

She turned her palm up and curled her fingers around his hand. He squeezed it gently and her eyes slid closed.

"He would hit her, and it only took me interfering once before he started on me, too. I couldn't understand it - no one had ever done that to me before. No one. I was in the village once, fetching something from the store and I overheard two people gossiping. Dilan was older, he'd had another wife years earlier, but she died. They were talking like he'd  _killed_  her. Like he'd killed her and like the only reason he'd married Mila was because…" Syra shook her head and looked at Arik. "I can't even say it, Arik. I can't. But you understand." She shivered. "He was made to marry her, once Mila's father found out what he'd done. Could you imagine?"

"Stendarr's mercy." He whispered, eyes wide. His grip on her hand tightened.

Syra couldn't look at him, not while she told the next part. "I didn't believe it. Didn't believe that...that it was even  _possible_  to do that. But then...one night…" She closed her eyes, feeling the tears there already, feeling them sting her cheeks as they left her eyes in a grim procession.

"He came to my bed. And he…" She was trembling, shaking her head, rocking herself.

"Oh, Syra." Arik shifted so he was sitting with his back against the headboard beside hers. He put an arm around her and she leaned into him gratefully.

"I can still feel his hands sometimes, Arik. I can feel him - " Syra broke off, unable to continue. Arik kissed her head, murmuring soothing sounds into her hair. He held her like that until she quieted, wiping tears from her cheeks with shaky fingers and feeling like a fool. But, Divines, did it feel  _good_  to be held.

"It went on nearly two years, and then I couldn't take it any longer. I performed the Black Sacrament. You know, we used to tell ghost stories of it when we were little? I didn't know if it would work, but it did. Just like the stories. An assassin came and killed him. She took pity on me and I guess she saw something in me…" Syra laughed bitterly. "She took me in...and the rest is history."

"Of all the futures I wanted for you…" He mumbled, chin resting on her head.

"I spent my entire childhood wanting to be adopted, and my entire adopted life wishing to be an orphan again." She sniffed, swiping her sleeve over her nose.

Arik snorted humourlessly.

"Things are so messed up, Arik."

"Yes, they are."

"The Brotherhood leader, Astrid...well, we were not on good terms. I crossed her one too many times, so she set a hit out after Ljorn."

" _Ljorn_?"

Syra nodded, desperately wishing she could see him and make sure he was alright. "I got there in time to stop it, but not before they got three arrows in him. He's alive, I know that much." Speaking it out loud for the first time, the guilt was nearly unbearable. She pressed on. "When I got back to our hideout it was crawling with Imperials soldiers. Astrid had betrayed us to them and they'd slaughtered nearly everyone."

"Truly?"

"Yes."

Silence.

"Syra?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you know about Delphine? Who sent you?"

At that, she froze. "Ah. That…" How did she even begin to tell him that?

The door opened, and Fina poked her head in.

"You're awake!"

Syra suddenly felt naked without her mask and self-conscious with Arik's arm around her. Much to her discomfort, he made no move to get up.

She nodded, looking away from the beauty she could never even wish to attain.

_No wonder Arik is so taken with her._

_She is adequately pretty, I suppose._  Syra ignored the Night Mother.

"Oh, don't tell me he has you chained." Fina pushed the door all the way open and turned to the guard, holding out her hand expectantly. Somewhat reluctantly, the man handed over a key.

Arik stood up after giving Syra another quick kiss on the head. Fina shut the door and made quick work of freeing her from the chain.

Syra nodded her thanks and rubbed her wrist, trying to convince some of the absent blood to go back to circulating.

"How are you feeling?"

"Alive." Syra replied, accepting the refilled cup of water Arik handed her.

"You look abundantly better than when I found you!"

She dipped her head. "I owe you my thanks, Dragonborn."

Fina shook her head. "You've saved us twice, Syra. It was the least I could do. Though I do admit," She smiled sheepishly. "I wish it had been me to put an end to Delphine."

_Shadowmere!_

"My horse…"

"I checked with my Uncle, he is being taken care of at the stables. He is quite the steed - I've never seen another like him."

 _Nor will she ever!_  The Night Mother put in haughtily.

"How did you come upon him?"

"He was a gift."

Fina gave a little nod and then looked at Arik. As she did, a smile curved her lips and pink touched his cheeks. Despite herself, jealousy flashed through Syra.

"Arik, could I have a quick word?" Fina smiled apologetically at Syra. "I'll give him right back."

Syra shrugged, feigning nonchalance when really she would have given anything to just keep Arik's quiet silence with her awhile longer.

Arik gave Syra a long look, but she didn't meet his searching gaze. Instead, she stood on shaky legs and used the wall for support as she went to look out the window. The door closed behind them and she hugged herself, eyes squeezing closed.

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry._

_Tears are not weakness, flower._

_Yes they are._

_Even Sithis himself was known to cry._

_Tears of blood are not the same._

The Night Mother made no response.

**F I N A**

* * *

She was itching to touch him, even now. They stopped down the hall, out of earshot of the guard. Fina crossed her arms.

"What is it?" Arik asked, obviously worried.

"We've just gotten a courier from Balgruuf." She sighed. "He said he won't agree to the plan unless we call a truce with the Imperials."

"Oh."

"Aye." Fina shook her head. "It took some convincing, but we managed to convince Ulfric to hold a peace talk."

"He  _agreed_?"

"Yes, but not before he accused me of treason." She laughed at the thought, shaking her head. Arik's eyes widened, but she waved it off. "He is just a stubborn old mule. We need to ask a favour of you."

"Of me?"

"Yes, Arik. Of you." She smiled fondly at him. "I'm sure you know that it's traditional to hold peace talks at High Hrothgar?"

Fina watched him carefully for his reaction. When he remained steady, she continued.

"We want you to write Wulfgar and ask permission to hold this one there, too."

" _Fina!_ " He said desperately, moving backwards until he could sit on one of the benches that lined the hall. "Do you know what you ask of me?"

She came to crouch before him, sitting back on her heels. "Yes. I'm asking you to write to a man who cares for you,  _loves_  you like a father, even, to ask for his help."

Arik groaned. "I am supposed to be sitting at the top of a mountain meditating, not dabbling in the politics of Skyrim!"

Fina felt a sting of pain at his words, reminded again of her role in stealing that life from him. She dropped her eyes.

"Oh, Fina - I didn't mean…" He touched her arm.

"No, it's true, Arik. You should be, by all rights." She sighed. "But you aren't, and I will forever ask your forgiveness for my part in that."

His head dropped into his hands.

Fina reminded herself to be patient - this way of life was entirely new to him. This way of making big decisions, ones that would not just affect yourself, but would affect hundreds - if not thousands - of people. He was unused to the responsibility she carried.

"This is bigger than both of us and our mistakes. It is bigger than Arngeir's anger and Paarthurnax's distrust. This is the future of Tamriel. We need their help if we are going to succeed." She paused. "Their help, and yours."

"You knew I would do it before you even asked." Arik's voice was hard.

"I had hoped."

"And if I said no?"

"Honestly?" He nodded. "We would have persuaded you."

"So I never really had a choice?"

Fina didn't have a response to that, so she kept her mouth shut, eyes begging him to understand.

"I suppose you need it as soon as possible?" He looked up at her, his expression unreadable. It sent a sadness through Fina and she stood.

"A courier is waiting."

"Of course." Arik said bitterly. He stood up and pushed past her, walking back towards Syra's room.

A gust of cold air hit Fina as he passed, and she shivered.

**A R I K**

* * *

Syra was standing at the window as he entered, and when she heard him she hastily wiped at her cheeks.

"Sorry about that." He said softly.

She didn't respond, just shook her head and came to sit in the bed again, fingers running absently over the scar on her stomach.

"How do you feel?"

"Horrible." She replied honestly. Arik passed her a chunk of bread from the loaf a serving girl had brought in earlier.

Syra took it, but squinted at him. "Did you and Fina just have an argument?"

"Am I that obvious?"

She smirked at him. "Some things never change."

He grinned at her despite the heavy sadness in his chest, and turned to dig through the bedside table. Luckily, he found what he was looking for.

Arik pulled out a rolled up sheet of parchment, pot of ink, and quill. He sat down at the table, clearing himself a spot and laid everything out. He poised his hand to write, but found himself frozen, staring at the blank white of it, with it's limitless potential.

"What are you doing?"

"I've got absolutely no idea." He answered, dipping the tip of the quill into the pot of ink and brushing off the excess.

With a sigh, Arik began to write.


	21. Disarming

**A R I K**

* * *

Three days passed.

Arik had asked Syra to stay, but when he went to check on her one morning - after another frustratingly grim sleepless night - all he found in her place was a note.

_Arik,_

_I have found my place, just as I think you have found yours._

_All my love,_

_Syra_

He sat numbly on the bed, staring at the letter. Part of him had known she would leave, but it had been so natural for them to slip back into an easy companionship that he'd hoped she would. More than that, she had been a welcome distraction from Fina's absence.

They hadn't spoken since their argument over the letter to Wulfgar, and he'd hardly even caught sight of her in the mean time. When Ulfric didn't have her going over battle plans, Esbern had her reading through his massive texts on dragon lore.

Arik's anger had long since gone stale and blown away, but nerves kept him from approaching her. When he thought of it objectively, he understood her reasons for what she'd asked of him. He understood why the idea of it was easier for her to comprehend than it had been for him.

Still, his stomach churned anxiously whenever he thought of how the Greybeards would respond to his letter. So far, they hadn't heard back from any of their couriers, although they expected a response from Whiterun within the next day.

Arik folded the letter and tucked it into his trousers pocket. He walked to the door, tugging it open.

"Your prisoner escaped." He said simply, leaving the alarmed guard to handle the situation.

_Well, at least she didn't kill him._

**F I N A**

* * *

"You look very uninterested in that book, Fina."

Esbern's voice broke her from her thoughts and she jumped, realising that she'd been staring at the same page for at least the last ten minutes. It was one of Esbern's books - something about dragon burial sites.

"I have never been much of a reader." She admitted, shutting it and sliding it across the table towards him. He chuckled and set it back on the pile near his elbow.

"More of an adventurer?"

Fina shrugged.

"How about I send you on a mission, then?"

"What sort of mission?"

Esbern turned to dig in a bag on the floor. He retrieved a map and pushed some books aside so he could spread it on the table. Fina held one side of it down. It was a map of Skyrim with several 'x's marked on it.

Two of them were quite close to Windhelm.

"These marks show locations I've confirmed to have Word Walls."

"Interesting." Fina pored over it. "Does that also mean there would be dragons nearby?"

"It's impossible to know for certain, but it would be safest to assume that there are."

"So, Word Walls - meaning they would teach me new Shouts?"

"Exactly."

"This one is close enough I could make it there and back in a day." She pointed to one of them. "Wouldn't we have noticed the dragon circling?"

"You would think."

"I'll head there tomorrow." She said decidedly. It would be good practise - she hadn't done anything the least bit active since returning to Windhelm.

**S Y R A**

* * *

Sneaking out had been easier than she'd thought, but harder, too. She hated leaving Arik behind, especially after they'd grown closer again.

But that was also part of the reason she had to leave - it wasn't as if she could stay in Windhelm forever. She had to return to the Brotherhood - or what was left of it.

She was tempted to stop and see Ljorn, but knew that would be a mistake. The Night Mother told her he was alive and she had to trust that. Besides, the contracts were beginning to pile up and they would need all the gold they could get in order to rebuild.

With all of this in mind, she and Shadowmere headed for Dawnstar.

**F I N A**

* * *

When she heard Syra was gone, Fina hurt for Arik. She had seen what the girl meant to him and knew he would miss her terribly, assassin or no.

It was early morning and Fina was heading out to find the Word Wall, but she found herself stopped outside of his door. Her feet planted, fist poised over the wood.

_Come on, idiot._

She paused a moment, and then forced herself to knock.

Before she could, the door opened. Arik stood before her, hair a tousled mess, eyes clouded and ringed with shadows.

"Oh." She said, dropping her hand.

He stared at her, blinking several times before he seemed to register what it was he was seeing.

"I was just heading out." She told him.

"Out? Out where?"

Did she detect a touch of worry in his voice?

"Esbern found a Word Wall near here. I'm going to investigate."

Arik nodded, swallowing and looking down. He was wearing a wine-coloured, fur-lined jacket she hadn't seen before. It suited him well.

Fina cleared her throat, shifting nervously.

"Could we -"

"How have -"

They spoke simultaneously and both stopped, mouths shutting abruptly.

"Could we talk?" Fina tried again.

Arik stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter the room. She did, and he closed the door behind them.

Fina set her bag down and turned to look at him as he stood stiffly, hands balled into fists at his sides. She frowned.

"I wanted to apologise." She started. "I should have been more sensitive when I asked you for help. I forget sometimes…" Fina drifted off, not liking how her words were coming out. She sighed in frustration.

"I know. I overreacted."

"You...what?"

"I overreacted."

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then he continued.

"I'm just not used to this...well, to any of this really." Arik shrugged. "I'm finding it difficult, being here."

Fina hugged herself, and nodded. "I understand, and that's why I wanted to give you the chance to leave, if that is what you choose. You didn't ask for this, and you certainly don't owe me or my Uncle anything. It was wrong for me to assume otherwise."

"Fina - "

She held up her hands to cut him off. "No, just let me get this out. If it is your wish to go, I won't stop you. I want for you to be happy. I won't lie, you would be doing us a great service if you were to stay. My Uncle trusts your judgement and insight, and so do I." She could hear the emotion tugging at her voice and fought to keep it down.

"And, oh, forsake it, Arik! I love you, you beautiful, naive fool! I fear it would half near kill me to lose you, but I would manage it if I knew it was what brought you peace." Fina angrily wiped the tears from her eyes, unable to look at him.

His silence crashed upon her like a wave upon rock, and she felt her confidence waver. "If you decide to go, Jorleif will make the arrangements for you."

Before she could further humiliate herself, Fina grabbed her pack and dashed out of the room.

**A R I K**

* * *

He was too stunned by her words to say anything. Before he could even begin to formulate a response, she was gone. Arik reacted too slowly, chasing her into the hall. She was already gone.

"Damn it all, Fina." He grumbled.  _You can't just drop that on me and then take off._

Arik couldn't even fathom the idea that she loved him, but when he thought on it, it began to make perfect sense. The tug he felt in his chest whenever she was near, the way he felt pain when she did, the way a single touch from her set him on fire. If she even felt a portion of what he felt for her, it could be called love.

 _You might as well have been blind, deaf, and dumb for all the good you've been._  He scolded himself, heading back inside his room and slamming the door shut.

When it was spoken out loud, the idea of leaving seemed completely ludicrous.  _You've just been a coward._  If he could help them in any way, why was he not jumping at the chance? Was Tamriel not his home too? He had been so selfish.

**F I N A**

* * *

It started to snow as she left the palace, great thick flakes of it drifting down around her. It didn't take long before it laid a blanket upon the crumbling grey walls of Windhelm, a welcome scene like a drawing from her childhood.

Vokun was waiting in the stables for her, and she took her time grooming and saddling him. His rich auburn pelt had grown thicker as he aclimatised himself to the cold northern weather.

The sun was only just peeking out over the hills when she left the city, following the map Esbern had marked for her.

 _I can't believe I told him I loved him._  The bite of the wind at her cheeks helped to dull the anxiety ripping through her, but it was still fierce.  _Now I've well and truly scared him off. He didn't even say a word._

Fina was so caught up in her despairing thoughts that she didn't see the Wisps and their mother until they were upon her. One of the Wisps spooked Vokun, who reared, dropping Fina from his back.

She landed in a drift of snow and found herself swallowed by it's frosty depths. With a cry of surprise, Fina thrashed about until she could right herself. Fighting Wisps was always one time she wished she had magic.

 _You do!_  She reminded herself dumbly. Fina pulled herself out of the snowdrift and scrambled to her feet. She knew that Fire Breath would be useful, but if she used it too soon, she would leave herself defenceless while it recharged.

She also knew that the Wispmother would hold back until her children had either been victorious, or had been defeated.

One of the two Wisps threw itself at her, and it hit her square in the chest, shoving her backwards. Frost blossomed like intricate lace across the metal of her breastplate, but luckily it protected her from any real damage. Cursing, Fina rolled to her knees and drew her sword, digging it's tip into the ground for balance as she stood once more.

 _Damn things are too fast._  It whipped itself at her again, and she swung her sword.  _And I'm too slow!_  She only made contact with one of it's stingers, which burst in a shower of translucent shards.

Fina cried out in frustration, and heard Vokun winny - heard the crunch of snow as he pounded the ground with his hooves. She looked over to see that the other Wisp was attacking him, darting around his head and stinging at his exposed sides and haunches.

The Wispmother was chanting from afar, her palms risen to the sky as she swayed back and forth, beautiful and ethereal and glowing in the rising sun. Fina hated her.

An idea came to Fina, and she ran towards her, narrowly avoiding another attack from the little Wisp on her way. When nothing but cold air stood between herself and the Wispmother, Fina planted her feet and reached within herself.

" _YOL TOOR SHUL!_ " The fire shot forth, encasing the Wispmother and smothering her. When the flames cleared, however, she was still there, eyes ravenous and narrowed. A bellowing screech was savagely born from her throat, and Fina was paralyzed.

_Why didn't that work?_

The fear only lasted a horrifying second, however, and then the Wispmother exploded into a storm of a million glistening bits of icy shrapnel. The Wisps keened, a hauntingly, mournful wail and then twisted towards each other across the snow, gathering above the scattered remains of their mother.

Fina took the opportunity and dashed forwards, sword raised, and brought it down across both of them at once, cleaving the two creatures clean in half. They split like dry wood and fell to the snow as dead weight, as if they had never lived to begin with.

 _Thank Talos._  She dropped to her knees, breath hissing between her clenched teeth. Fina was undoubtedly out of practise in the frigid northern climate.

When she stood and turned back to Vokun, he was sidestepping nervously, skin twitching where bits of him had been frozen and were thawing.

 _Not good._  She came towards him slowly, stroking his nose until he was calm enough she could take the reins and inspect him. She patted at the places the Wisp had stung. If anything, she judged that he would have slight irritation for the next couple of days - nothing life threatening.

"You'll be a war horse yet, Vokun." Fina told him, and he gave her a disheartened snort. She laughed and swung herself onto his back, mindful of any of his sore areas.

It was noon before she reached the Word Wall. It rose up unexpectedly before her, a far-off beacon on the horizon.

_I've explored these hills my entire life - why have I never see this place before now?_

In truth, Fina had barely needed to use the map. It was as if she already knew where it was she needed to go. As they drew closer, she was relieved to find there was no dragon circling above, and none perched atop the Wall, waiting to swoop in and Shout her down.

She dismounted, walking towards it, seeing the glow of the rune and feeling the rest of the world disappear around her. Fina touched her hand to it, and immediately was filled with the now-familiar strength of it, the surge of power and blinding heat as it unlocked the knowledge inside of her mind that felt like it had been there all along.

" _Laas yah_." She whispered it. "Life seek."

It was then that the ground began to rumble beneath her. With a sinking feeling in her gut, Fina turned. Behind her, the snow was caving in on itself, forming a crater. Vokun was backing up, out of the way, and when it became clear he would likely be swallowed, he turned and ran as fast as he could, leaving Fina to deal with whatever was emerging from it's wintery grave.

 _Of course._  She groaned to herself, pulling her bow free of it's place on her back.  _It could never have been that easy._

The dragon was materialising before her eyes. The snow sifted through it's bones, leaving it bare and yellow in contrast to the endless white of it's surroundings. It's eyeless head lifted, and, as it did, the flesh and muscle began to grow again.

Fina watched, immobilised, as the bones were coated again in shades of pink and red, sinew and tendons, cartilage, fat, skin, and lastly - scales. She cursed herself, knowing the time to strike would have been at the moment she'd seen it's giant beating heart rebuilding itself.

She knocked an arrow into place, crouching, hoping in vain that the beast wouldn't see her.

No such luck. It turned it's reborn eyes on her, opening and closing its mouth as if trying to remember how it worked. It's wings stretched, and Fina knew she could not allow it to take flight.

She took aim, sending an arrow straight between it's fangs, down the hatch of it's throat. It flew free, but not before the dragon closed it's heavy maw and snapped the arrow like a twig.

It readied itself to take off again.

Fina dropped her bow and drew her sword, racing forward. She took advantage of it's obvious sleepiness, and before the creature could fly, she thrust her sword through the sensitive membrane of its wing, shoving the blade as far into the ground as it would go.

The dragon flailed, beating it's wing in vain against the ground and only succeeding in worsening the wound. She grinned, and propelled herself backwards to retrieve her bow. The creature's long neck followed her, readying itself to trap her in it's powerful jaws.

" _FUS RO DAH!_ " It recoiled from her, and she hoped that it's vocal cords were still developing so she would have a moment longer to fight before it could Shout back.

She positioned an arrow, aiming for the creatures eye. Fina shot three times in a row, knowing it would see the attack coming and would move to avoid it. Indeed it did, and dodged the arrows easily.

She shot two more. One stuck in the bridge of it's nose, and the other struck it's cheek - neither seemed to be much of a hindrance.

The dragon raised it's other wing, using it as a club and swinging it towards her. Fina ducked out of the way, jumping behind an edge of the Word Wall and hearing the sheet of stone reverberate as the dragon struck it. It cried out in frustration.

_Well, there are it's vocal cords._

Fina darted out again, aiming another arrow.

" _ZUN HAAL VIIK!_ " The creature bellowed.

This was something she was unused to hearing from a dragon, and she didn't understand what it had meant as she had at other times when hearing the dragon language. It became apparent, however, when the bow and arrow were ripped from her hands and flew so far away that she couldn't even see them as distant specks against the endless white.

_A disarming Shout?_

Now, she was defenceless. Fina felt a thrill of fear, and she ducked, meaning to grab the dagger from her boot. Then she froze. Did it take dragons as long to regain strength after Shouting as it did for her? Could it simply Shout again if she drew her dagger and then truly leave her weaponless?

" _Siiv ahkriini, Briinah. Zu nis siiv moro naal viik nikriin._ " *

Fina stood rigidly, taking in what he had said. Her mind seemed to comprehend it, and yet it was hard for her to grasp. Some words seemed to be innate to her, and some she had picked up from the Greybeards. What it had sounded like, was he accused her of being cowardly.

She scowled at him and drew the dagger from her boot.

" _Nahlot, Dovah. Krif._ " ** She was sure her words were spoken like a foreigner, but her point had gotten across.

The beast lifted it's neck and  _laughed_. A rumbling noise like thunder across the ocean. It lowered it's head, gaze meeting hers and it's tongue flickered out, tasting her cheek. This is where it had made it's mistake - by underestimating her.

" _Pahlok._ " *** She murmured, and jumped, thrusting her dagger into the tender spot at the back of his head where his spine met his skull.

He didn't even have time to protest, he simply collapsed. Fina hardly managed to get out of the way before he began to slide back into the hole in the ground he'd come from, only pinned in place by her sword in his wing.

This time, when his soul came to her, it was like welcoming an old friend home.

Fina retrieved her sword, cursed her bow to Oblivion, and left her dagger with the bones - climbing into the hole was not worth the trouble.

Vokun was waiting patiently for her several hundred yards back the way they'd come. "Some help you were." She teased him.

However scary fighting dragons and Wispmothers was, the thought that Arik might not be in Windhelm when she returned was far, far more terrifying.

**A R I K**

* * *

It felt like he'd been pacing in his room the entire day. Every time he heard footsteps in the hall, he peeked out to see if it was her. It never was.

Eventually he sat himself down before the fire, wishing desperately he could sleep. The dreams had been back every night, keeping him from getting any true rest. It was becoming harder and harder to function as each day passed.

It was well past sunset when he heard the heavy jostle of armour passing. He bolted up, going to the door and throwing it open. Fina lurched to a stop outside, but didn't turn to look at him, as if afraid.

Of course, she hadn't seen his reaction to her words and, if he knew her at all, had been driving herself crazy since this morning with her doubts.

"Fina."

She looked at him. Her face was glowing red from the cold, hair stuck to her forehead with sweat from where her helmet had sat. Now she held it tucked beneath her arm, holding her pack in the other hand.

He launched at her, pushing her back by the shoulders until she hit the wall with a thud. She looked up at him in confusion. In truth, even  _he_  was confused, not sure he had ever been this aggressive before in his life.

" _You_  are the fool, Norfina Stormcloak, if you thought for one moment I would  _ever_  leave you." Arik's voice was set with conviction, and he sealed the idea by kissing her, hard.

Her helmet and bag clattered to the stone floor as her stiff armoured arms came up to rest on his sides. She kissed him back, and he could taste the cold and sweat on her lips.

The kiss was near violent, as they pushed at each other. Fina shoved him back a step, scrambling to pull off her gauntlets before he had a chance to step back towards her and capture her again.

He didn't care that they were in the middle of the hall. He didn't care that at any moment someone could walk around the corner or out of a room and seem them here, hungrily consuming each other with lips and teeth.

Fina bit his bottom lip, and he tasted his own blood in her mouth. He grunted, never having realised that pain could also cause pleasure. He frantically worked the straps of her breastplate. Truly, he had no idea how the contraption worked and so they had to pull apart long enough for her to undo it and unclasp her cloak, letting them join the other garments on the floor.

Arik pressed himself against her again, bracing himself against the wall with one arm and using the other hand to loosen her sword belt enough that it slid over her hips and down to sit around her ankles.

The soft noises she was making against his mouth were enough to drive him wild, and he felt himself strain against the tight leather of his trousers.

All of the frustration from the last few days seemed to be venting itself all at once, and using the confidence it gave him, he kissed his way down her neck and slipped his fingers below the waistline of her leggings.

As he delved lower, he could feel how slick Fina had become and when his fingers brushed against her, she gasped, her nails digging into his arms painfully.

She breathed his name, leaning her forehead against his chest as his hand began to move steadily. Arik carefully paid attention to the noises she made and the pattern of her breathing, trying desperately to learn what seemed to elicit the most positive responses from her.

"Ah," Fina's hips jerked against him and she shook her head, laughing, her breath hot against his neck. "We need to stop."

When he didn't, she gripped his wrist hard enough that he couldn't move. She leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Arik, as much as I would love for you to take me in this hallway, I do not want your first experience to be up against a wall."

The words sent an excited shiver of pleasure through him. In truth, he thought maybe he would very much like to take her against this wall, but he knew she was right.

Fina kissed his neck before she pulled his hand out of her leggings. She bent to pick up her armour. He took half of it, and then let her lead him by the hand into his room.

Inside, they dumped her things onto the floor and turned to look at each other. Arik's confidence had dulled, and he smiled coyly.

Fina shook her head and laughed, reaching out, she pulled him towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and she ducked her head under his chin, fingers slipping under his tunic to massage at his bare back.

"Fina?"

"Hmm?"

"This morning, when you said that you -"

"If you're about to ask me if I meant it when I said I love you, you might as well save your breath. I would not have said it if I didn't mean it."

He swallowed, trembling as the idea of her loving him was renewed. Fina pulled back to look at his face.

Arik ducked his head, brushing his nose against hers. It felt as though a spark shot between them as he did, and he closed his eyes, so entirely overwhelmed by the feeling of her that he was finding it difficult to breath.

When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him curiously. Arik smiled and kissed her slowly, the feeling agonising and wonderful. He held it until his chest was so tight he thought it might crack under the pressure.

He pressed his lips to the hollow of her ear. "Whatever love I have to give is yours, Fina."

Fina's body tensed, and he shifted so that he could look at her, alarmed. She was staring at him, her eyes massive and shining like sapphires in her moon-pale face. He pushed the damp hair from her forehead.

"Fina?"

She covered her mouth, shaking her head slowly. Tears started to form in her eyes, spilling one by one down her cheeks.

Arik had certainly not been expecting that reaction. "What's wrong?"

_What on Nirn did I say?_

Her arms were around him and she was squeezing him so tightly that his lungs weren't getting enough air, but he wasn't about to complain. He stroked her back, entirely unsure what had brought on her tears.

Fina's body was wracked with sobs, and she was so tense that he could feel her muscles shaking with the strain. Arik rubbed at her shoulders, trying to ease her, but it didn't seem to be working.

Using instinct alone, Arik lowered his lips to her ear and using his Voice for the first time in her presence, whispered: " _Kaan drem._ "

Much to his pleasant surprise, the walls only gave a faint tremor. It would seem that his Voice had faded much since he'd departed High Hrothgar.

She relaxed immediately, and he was able to swing her up into his arms. He carried her to the bed, settling her down and crawling on beside her. Fina's fists stayed locked in his tunic, so he rubbed her back and pressed feather-light kisses across her brow and nose.

Fina sniffed and he was relieved to hear her chuckle. "I am a blubbering idiot."

"Well…" She hit his chest and he caught her wrist and brought it to his lips. "Am I that repelling?"

"No, I am just relieved." Fina sighed. "I spent all of today preparing myself to come back and find you gone."

"Oh, Fina." The thought alone was painful. " _Neh_. Never."

"Your Voice is beautiful." She looked up at him through wet eyelashes. "Why haven't I heard it before?"

"I was worried I'd shake the place down."

Fina nodded. "Could you teach me? I understand certain words as I hear them, but I wish I knew more."

Arik smiled. "If you'd like. Di -"

"Wait a moment, did you  _Shout_  at me just now?"

"In a manner of speaking." He replied nervously.

"You either did or you didn't!" She insisted, fixing her red-rimmed eyes on him. It was difficult to take her annoyance seriously while she was in such a vulnerable state.

"It isn't that straight forward, Fina. I used my Voice, I didn't Shout. Not as you do. It is different for a Greybeard." Much to his relief, she didn't pull away when he laced their fingers together.

"Explain." She demanded, but the annoyance was quickly disappearing from her face. This was accented by the fact she snuggled closer to him again.

"You understand that becoming a Greybeard means you completely dedicate yourself to using only the Voice for the rest of your life? You essentially turn yourself into a vessel of the Divines and when you speak, it is with their words. That is why the Voice is so powerful and can be so destructive. The mortal world is not built to interact with the Divines in their true form."

Fina nodded, so he continued.

"Dragon language has been the language of choice for the Greybeards since their creation, but the language does not truly matter. That's why regardless of whether Wulfgar spoke Tamrielic or dragon language, it had the same effect. It is his connection to the Divines that fuels the power."

"Why can Arngeir speak, then?"

"Arngeir is the most powerful of them all. He is the only one able to sever his connection to the Divines at will. I was so new that my connection was never strong enough and it was easily broken. The reason I took the vow of silence was because, without it, I could never have forged a strong enough connection to reach Elderhood." Arik sighed at the memory of it. "What I did just now was tap back into my Voice and use it to give you Kyne's blessing of peace."

"I never understood the attraction to being a Greybeard until now. To be connected to the Divines in such a way…" Fina shivered against him and her eyes grew wet again. Arik kissed her lashes before the tears could fall. "Arik, I am so sorry."

"Stop saying that." He rebuked gently. "As Wulfgar said, the Divines had another path for me."

Arik pressed his lips to her knuckles in a silent attempt to communicate that that path very much involved her, and by the smile that graced her face he guessed she had understood. A burst of delirious happiness spread up his back and he grinned at her.

After a moment like that, he remembered her day's mission.

"Did you find the Word Wall?"

"Yes. It was  _laas yah_."

"Life seek."

"Hmm. I also had the pleasure of meeting a dragon there."

"Meeting it with force?"

Fina nodded. "It hurts, to kill them. Is that wrong?"

" _Nid. Nust kos zeymahi._ " He murmured. "They are your brothers."

"Thank you." She kissed him.

"Sleep?" He offered. She nodded, and he awkwardly tugged the blankets out from under them. He pulled them up around their shoulders, and savoured the feeling of her legs tangled between his own and her fingers curled against his chest.

* * *

* "Find your strength, Sister. I cannot find glory by defeating a coward."

** "Silence, Dragon. Fight."

*** "Arrogance."

 


	22. Laas Yah

**Trigger Warning: Syra's portion of this chapter has mentions of sexual abuse. Please skip her section if this might be a sensitive topic for you.**

**A R I K**

* * *

With Fina in his arms, Arik expected to be free from his nightmares.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

This time, he had taken Yatto's place - flat on his back, staring up at Fina. Her eyes were cold, and barren of the warmth they normally held for him. The look sent a horrific thrill of dread spiraling through his core.

Arik was choking on his tongue, like a bloody ball of wool lodged in his throat; sour and hot. The texture alone was enough to make him gag.

Fina held her sword poised over his heart, hovering there, her lips pulled into a devilish grin, exposing fangs that dripped with swamp-green poison. As he watched, her head began to morph, skin becoming molten and grey, solitary hunks of flesh shifting and drifting; hardening into layers upon layers of scales and boney spikes.

She was a dragon.

As the realisation dawned on him, Fina tightened her newly-formed talons around the blade and drove it home.

"Arik!" Someone was shaking him. He bolted upright in bed.

The world swirled around him, churning once, twice, three times before it seemed to settle. The wash basin and both of the chairs across the room had toppled over. Water leaked across the stone floor.

Fina -  _his_  Fina - was sitting up beside him, hands locked on his arms, forcing him to look at her.

"Arik." She said again, touching his cheek.

He looked at her through forlorn eyes.

"How long have you had nightmares?"

He shook his head fiercely, not wanting to add to her guilt.

" _How long?_ " She demanded.

"Since the bandits."

Fina rested her forehead against his arm and swore. She sighed. "You Shouted in your sleep."

"I used my Voice?"

"No, Shouted.  _Fus_. The first word of Unrelenting Force. You Shouted."

"What?"

Fina shoved the blankets down the bed and came to sit facing him, between his legs. She rested her splayed hands on his knees.

"I need to train you to fight."

"Why? Are you sending me into battle?"

" _Neh_. The army is not that desperate." She teased. "It will help to face what you saw, and, at the very least, you should learn to defend yourself."

Arik blanched at the thought of himself with a sword.

"I'd end up cutting my own hand off."

"I've taught children to fight before, none have lost limbs."

He swatted at her for taking another jibe at him, but truthfully he was glad for her lightness.

"I can't believe I Shouted."

Fina shrugged. "Perhaps it was a parting gift from Kyne."

Arik reached out and took her face between his hands, trying to figure out how it was she managed to go from this caring, teasing girl to a seemingly ruthless killer in mere moments.

He knew she was a good and kind person, and he loved her more and more with each passing day - but did bandits not love and show kindness on occasion, too? Didn't they have mothers and brothers and comrades and wives?

Arik sighed and slid his hands down her sides until he got to her hands. He held them tightly.

"We are so very different, aren't we?" He said softly, smiling at her.

Picking up on the fact he was not criticising, she smiled and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

"It takes the love of opposing forces to unite legions." She shrugged. "Uncle and Tullius could learn something from us. Just don't dare tell him I said that."

**S Y R A**

* * *

The Dawnstar Sanctuary was a mess, to say the least.

Thankfully, Nazir and Babette had hired some contacts through the Thieves' Guild to clear some of the rubble, but the place was still drenched in spider webs and long-dead bodies.

It was good that Syra had a list of nearly twenty names upon her return, because by the time the clearing was done, the Brotherhood coiffers were devastatingly empty.

Cicero had returned with the Night Mother the day before and was his usual frighteningly happy self. He tried to  _embrace_  Syra when he saw her, and may have succeeded if it wasn't for the dagger she drew between them.

Perhaps the most surprising thing, however, was their unanimous decision to appoint Syra the Speaker.

"I don't even want to Listen, let alone Speak!" She protested, pacing before their expectant eyes.

"Honestly, Syra...The rest of us are too busy to do it. Cicero and Babette need to stick to contracts, and I need to work on recruiting." Nazir shrugged. "It makes sense to cut out the middle man. At least for now."

Syra sighed, seeing the logic behind it even though she didn't want to.

She threw up her hands. "Fine!"

And that was that.

So she set up an office, the desk stacked high with papers as she desperately tried to keep up with the names the Night Mother was pouring out at her. Babette and Cicero were doing as many hits as they could manage, and Syra was handling any herself that fell close enough in the area that she wouldn't be gone overnight.

 _They are beginning to see you as a leader, Syra._  The Night Mother told her one evening as she was counting through that weeks intake.

_I can't imagine why._

_Can't you?_

She remained silent, pretending to be very preoccupied with the pouch of gold she was counting. The Night Mother laughed at her attempts, and Syra felt the ghost of a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes slid shut and before she knew it, the familiar wave of heat consumed her.

The thorn throne was not an unwelcome sight. The Night Mother was behind Syra when she arrived, arms around her waist and chin on her shoulder. Syra shivered at the contact of the cold breath on her neck, the dangerously gentle graze of teeth against her bare shoulder. Her eyes slid shut.

"Mmm." The Night Mother hummed contentedly, pressing her palms flat on Syra's stomach. "I have missed you, little one."

Syra made no answer.

"You have done well since Astrid's betrayal." Lady Death continued, and one of her hands drifted a few inches lower. Syra struggled to keep her breathing normal, mind and body at war over which reaction was appropriate. Pleasure, or fear - perhaps both. "You have pleased me very much."

When her hand came even closer to the warmth between Syra's legs, the touch sparked a memory.

A dark room, the glow of a candle in a distant corner. The smell of mead dripping from the slimy saliva of a drunk man's tongue. The hungry kissing bites of his mouth on her neck, down her shoulders, over her breasts. The tears hot and confused on her cheeks as the soundless word 'why' left her lips over and over again to fall on deaf ears. The feeling of him forcing his way between her legs. The almost audible ripping of her skin as he plowed into her, his moans reminding her of the bellows of cattle at feeding time.

Syra cried out and violently pulled away from the Night Mother, a trapped sob burning in her throat. She would not let it escape. She tripped over her own feet, landing on her knees and bracing herself forward on her palms.

"Syra?" The voice was not concerned, but offended.

Her survival instincts kicked in, and she stole herself away. "I'm sorry, Lady. I have been wearing myself thin lately."

Silence met her, and she was too afraid to turn around and see what reaction was waiting for her on the Night Mother's face. Syra sat back on her heels, wrapping her arms around herself and trying to push the images from her head.

"Stand up."

She did as she was told, and turned slowly. The Night Mother's eyes were piercing as she looked Syra up and down.

"It was that man I sent Astrid to kill for you, wasn't it?"

Her eyes widened. " _You_  sent Astrid?"

"Of course, although she would have thought it was her own clever idea." The Night Mother huffed, crossing her arms and tapping her dagger-like nails across the smooth, ashen skin of her forearm. Syra watched the motion, unable to pull her eyes away. "I have always had my eye on you, little flower."

**L J O R N**

* * *

Being bed-ridden was not something Ljorn was fond of. He was itching to be out with the others, sword in hand, felling giants and vampires and bears. Instead, he was being tended to by Tilma and her endlessly boring stories, so that he didn't risk undoing the careful repairs Danica's healing had made.

_Tilma. Queen of Excitement._

Ria would sit with him and tell him of the Companions latest conquests, but in truth, this only added to his frustration. He couldn't remember the last time he had been made to sit still for so long.

At the orphanage, he was always minding the children, or running around playing when he was one of them himself; or, when he'd joined the Companions, he'd focused on constantly training. He could feel his body going weak, the few muscles he'd been building were beginning to lose shape.

Finally, Danica gave the okay for him to get out of bed and start moving around again. He wasn't to resume his training, but he could help around the kitchens or with polishing the others' armour or sharpening their swords. He set to the tasks with a fierce determination. However menial they were, they were progress.

Syra was never far from his mind. No one had dared ask him much about that night, but he knew from the conversation Farkas and Vilkas had had over his bed, that they had seen her kiss him. Ljorn barely liked to let himself think about it for long, let alone speak about it out loud.

It hurt so much, because he knew that single kiss would always mean so much more to him than it ever would to her.

Still, she had promised she would check on him - that had to mean something, didn't it?

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina watched Arik stand before her, the sword gripped tightly in his hand, and could see the muscles in his forearm strain even just under it's weight alone.

"Are you left handed?" She asked suddenly, watching the way he held his shoulders and the awkward slant of his elbow.

"Uh,  _geh_. Yes."

Fina bit back her giggle.  _Of course._  "You'd better switch hands then."

He did as she said and immediately his posture improved. Fina nodded approvingly. She moved around him so she could look at his back. She poked her finger between his shoulder blades, causing him to straighten up. "Good."

They were standing in the courtyard, alone save for the odd howl of the wind against the glass windows. Although the roof was open, the walls were sealed to allow for protection from the worst of the elements.

" _Pruzah_." Arik corrected her.

" _Geh, pruzah._ " She conceded. Arik was taking the chance whenever he could to teach her a word in dragon language. He was shy about it, though, only doing so when they were in private. Something about that appealed to Fina - it made it feel like a very personal, intimate thing between them.

"Okay." Fina came to face him again, drawing her own sword. She smiled at the look of pure concentration on his face. "I want you to focus... _morah_?" Arik nodded, so she continued. " _Morah_  on defence to begin with. You won't have the  _mul_  for offence until later in your training."

"The most important thing is to stay calm. Remain with your breathing. Your meditation will help with this. Always be aware. What is around you? Trees? Rocks? Other people, other weapons? What is happening with your opponent? Are they afraid? Are they already wounded? Are they drunk, distracted, angry?" Fina took an experimental lunge forward, and Arik scuttled back a few steps, sword arm dropping to his side.

She shook her head, waving for him to lift his sword. "Always keep your sword up. Even dropping it for one moment could allow your opponent to land a blow. It only takes one." Fina sheathed her sword and came to stand beside him. She helped him position himself, tapping the insides of his calves with her toe until they were shoulder length apart. She made sure his arms were bent at the elbow and pulled them in close to his body.

"Keep your arms in close. Controlled. The closer in, the smaller the target." Fina adjusted his wrist so his grip was loose, but strong. She tilted the blade up a little and then came to stand in front of him again, about a foot shy of his blade's reach.

"Aim at my throat, or my eye. Whichever you find most comfortable."

When he did as she said, she nodded approvingly. "This is called being on point. The position you are holding right now is the one you should assume at the start of each fight. Just bend your legs a little more." He did as she said, squatting a little. "But keep your back straight."

Arik's face strained as he held it and she smiled. " _Pruzah_. I know, it will be hard to hold to begin with. Your body isn't used to it. It is a position of balance and defence. At once you are as small and sturdy as you can be."

Fina came forward and took the sword from him, setting it aside. "Okay, stand straight for a moment. Like you were when I first gave you the sword."

He looked confused, but did as she said. Without warning, she charged at him, barrelling into him with her shoulder and nearly sending him sprawling onto his back. She caught him by the arm before he could fall and pulled him upright.

Arik yelped in surprise, clinging to her shoulder for support. "What was  _that_  for?"

"I was showing you how unprotected that position is." She grinned at him and let him go. "Now, try the position I showed you again. Just without the sword." He grunted, obviously wary of her training methods now, but he did as she said. Fina had to adjust him a little, straightening his back and aligning his arms.

"Brace yourself!" She said, and this time when she charged at him, he withstood it much more easily, catching her by the shoulders and remaining upright, only skidding back two or three paces. " _Pruzah_ , Arik!  _Rinik pruzah_!"

Fina laughed breathlessly as they came to a stop and she looked up at him, his hands still on her shoulders. His face was red from the exertion, eyes shining in what pale light made it through the roiling grey clouds above.

They seemed to be closer and closer with each second, but she truly wasn't aware of much else beyond that look in his eyes; not beyond their orange-gold glow, like dying embers. She was happily smothered in that gaze as his lips fell on hers and she completely forgot that she was meant to be teaching him how to fight.

In this battle, Arik had won.

"Lady Norfina!"

They jumped off of each other and Fina spun in time to see the door to the courtyard thrown open and Morrin nearly trip over the threshold in his rush.

"A courier from Whiterun!"

"Coming!" She told him, and he nodded and darted back inside.

Fina stood still, pulse thrumming in her ears. She felt Arik's hand on her hip as he pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

" _Kogaan_. Thank you, for the lesson."

**A R I K**

* * *

The others were all assembled in the battle room when Fina and he arrived. Arik was suddenly self conscious of the way both of their faces were flushed - thankfully more important matters were at hand and no one would take notice.

Ulfric was - of course - the first to read the response. The rest of the room stood in nervous silence, watching their Jarl's face for a reaction.

"He has agreed." He declared, passing the letter to Fina who skimmed it and then handed it to Galmar. Arik caught her eye and she shrugged.

"He seems optimistic." She whispered to him, speaking of Balgruuf.

_Well, that's some good news._

Over the next several days, Fina and Arik practised for many hours a day until his body was sore and bruised and he could feel her patience wearing thin with him. He was not as quick of a learner as she would like - Arik had never in his life been useful during any kind of physical pursuits. Still, she had not shown him any anger, and for that, he was grateful.

At night, they shared a bed - and left it at that - and he had not had any nightmares since, by Kyne's grace. It was such a simple comfort to sleep wrapped in the warmth of another, something Arik had never even considered before. Now, however, he knew if they were parted he would miss it sorely.

Still, there was no word from High Hrothgar, nor Tullius. Each day Ulfric grew angrier and angrier, until his shouts could be heard echoing throughout the halls and Arik and Fina often went out of their way to avoid him.

One of these attempts, was an adventure planned by Fina and Esbern to another Word Wall in the area. This time, the trek would need to be overnight and Fina had asked Arik to come along.

"It will be fine, Arik." She tried to reassure him. "We don't get bandits in these parts, it's too cold. The only thing we will face will be Draugr, and perhaps some frostbite spiders - but each are easily dealt with. They will be excellent practise for you!"

Arik looked at her pleadingly. "Fina, I agreed to learn so I could  _defend_  myself, not so I could go out seeking Draugr and giant spiders!"

Fina took a deep breath, obviously trying to keep whatever anger she was feeling inside. Arik both resented it and appreciated it at the same time.

_At least she is trying._

"Arik,  _mu ney...mindok...vazah krif los zok...zok..._ " She drifted off, searching for the words she needed to finish her thought. Fina grumbled and shook her head. "Forsake it. We both know that true battle is best taught in the field, not in practise. At least this way, it is a controlled environment and I can step in to help."

Arik dropped his head to his hands. They were sitting in Fina's room, and Arik was perched on the edge of her bed. She had been leaning on the wall watching him, but pushed away and came to crouch in front of him, tugging his hands away so he had to look at her.

"You will be fine.  _Naan wo gaar fus ahst juli fen grind dinoku_."

" _Juli_?" Arik couldn't help but smile. "Any who unleash force at  _my man_  will meet their death?"

Fina shrugged, feigning nonchalance but he could see the pink on her cheeks. "I could not think of a better word."

He chuckled and shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her brow. She grinned at him cheekily and he sighed, resolve slipping.

"So be it.  _Aal Kaan dein._  May Kyne keep us."

**xxxxx**

They were on their way out in the morning when a courier from Markarth arrived with word from Mejel. He would be there, along with the Jarl's steward.

This cheered Fina some, as Arik knew Mejel was a brother to her. Arik, however, was not much in the way of cheer.

_This is all assuming the Greybeards even agree!_

Beyond that, his stomach churned at the thought of having to kill things, Draugr or not.

They set out on Vokun and Krein, with Arik's new-found muscles screaming in protest at the effort of riding.

The Word Wall they were seeking was in an ancient burial tomb, hidden below ground. From Esbern's notes, it wasn't too large - perhaps five caverns deep at most. Fina seemed to think it would be easy work.

Arik admitted he was interested to see the Word Wall itself, but it was  _getting_  there that worried him. He also didn't much fancy a night in a tomb, even if it was with Fina.

It took them most of the day to get there, and when they did arrive, he could hardly tell. The place didn't look like much - just a small opening in an overhanging wall of rock. From a distance, he wouldn't even have noticed it. Luckily, Fina's eyes were much keener in the snowy terrain.

They dismounted and tied the horses just outside. Fina covered them both in fur blankets to keep off the chill, and then headed inside.

Fina drew her sword before entering, and so he followed suit.

She had gifted Arik a simple steel sword that morning, short and lightweight, with a ball of clear blue glass mounted at the end of the pommel. The colour of the glass reminded him of her eyes.

Within, Arik was immediately hit with the scent of dust, mildew, and rotting linen. He covered his mouth, trying to stop himself from sneezing as bits of it clung to his nostrils. Fina motioned for him to keep the door open, so he did. It was impossible to see further inside the tomb, as it was entirely black.

Fina sheathed her sword and grabbed a torch off of the wall. She fumbled in her packed until she found a match which she struck against the rough stone of the wall. It flared to life and she held it to the torch until it took flame.

She nodded, and Arik let the door fall shut behind them. Torch in one hand, sword in the other, Fina lead them further into the tomb.

**F I N A**

* * *

Fina began to light braziers as she passed them, setting the chamber aglow. The opening chamber itself was quite small, which meant they could take a second to rest. She pressed her ear against the wooden door to the next room, listening for any movement.

When she heard none, she pushed it open a crack and peeked through. Nothing. If there were any Draugr, they would not wake yet.

She couldn't risk using Seek Life yet, not when it would take too long for her Shout to recharge and leave them vulnerable without it. She wasn't sure how far into the tomb the Shout would reach.

Shrugging, Fina closed the door again and retreated back towards one of the braziers. She sheathed her blade and settled her pack on the floor, crouching to pull out her water skin and a few strips of dry meat.

"Take a moment to rest, Arik. Whatever is on the other side will wait." She said quietly, eyeing him as he fidgeted nervously with the straps of his own pack. "How do you feel?"

"Fine." He replied, swallowing some water. Arik sat with his legs crossed and pulled off his gauntlets so he could warm his hands by the fire. Fina smiled at him, finding it a strange sight to see him in armour - even if it was quite light.

"What?"

"Armour."

" _Qah_." His lips twitched.

" _Qah_." She repeated.

After they both had had some rest, they donned their gear again, and started for the next room.

The next chamber was mostly empty, save for a few burial urns and empty barrels. It didn't look like anyone had been down here for centuries. There were, however, a suspiciously large amount of spider webs which Fina burnt away with the torch.

She tried not to think about what they had come from.

The third chamber was the largest so far. Inside, large upright stone caskets lined the walls and there was an indentation in the middle of the room that seemed to suggestion there had once been a pool of water there. It had long since dried up.

Immediately, Fina felt a nervous energy settle over the room. Arik felt it too, because he reached out and touched her arm. She nodded, standing in front of him in her battle stance, sword at the ready.

As they watched, the stone tablets covering the caskets began to fall, one by one. They clattered to the floor, some of them shattering and raising clouds of smothering dirt. From the caskets - of which Fina quickly counted ten - stepped Draugr.

"Breathe, Arik.  _Su'um_." She whispered. "They are clumsy. Stupid. Use your head."

Fina took steps back until she had pressed him back against the wall, her hand behind her and against his chest.

"Wait until I signal."

" _Geh_."

She stepped away, and heard him shift quietly against the wall as he crouched in the shadows. Fina moved forwards slowly, watching as the Draugr began to crowd into the centre of the room and grunt at each other, trying to discern why they had woken.

She bent, taking a stone from the ground and tossing it across the room, letting it hit the wall. It drew their attention, and they turned, all looking for the source of the echoing clack. Well - all but two of them.

_Damn. Better than nothing._

She burst forwards, sword held high, and sliced the head off of the closest of them, watching it tumble to the floor. Before the other Draugr could realise what had happened, she spun and sliced the second across the back of the legs, knocking it down to a level where it was easy for her to aim a kick at it's head, crushing it's dried-up skull to a useless pile of dust.

The other Draugr were now quite aware of what was happening. They turned on her, and she was alarmingly surprised by their speed. Fina hurried back a few steps.

" _YOL TOOR SHUL!_ " She ducked down as the fire engulfed them, but that move had been a mistake. As she did, the Shout was misdirected, only catching four of the eight remaining Draugr. The four it did hit, however, were nothing more than a pile of ash once the flames were done with them.

As much as this pleased Fina, she still had four enemies remaining. They ran at her in a swarm, and she raised her sword, slashing. One of them parried her blow with their own sword, nearly twisting the blade free from her hand.

"Arik!"

He moved forwards, striking at one of the Draugr that had rushed at her. It hadn't seen him coming up behind it, and he easily skewered it through the back. Arik looked surprised by what he had done, and let his sword go, taking several steps back and covering his mouth as the Draugr fell.

Fina didn't even have time to yell at him before she had to block another hit. She kicked one of the Draugr in the stomach, sending it sprawling backwards. A temporary delay.

" _Arik!_ " She cried again, and slashed one of the undead across the gut, dropping it. Arik was backing up, and one of them was advancing on him. Fina felt helpless.

Perhaps this was too soon for him.

Then she heard a Shout - one that was not her own.

" _FUS RO!_ "

At first she thought it was the Draugr who Shouted, but no, it was the Draugr itself that was sent flying across the room, so that could not be it...

It had been Arik.

Fina finished off the other two Draugr that she had been left with, and turned to look at the one Arik had sent crashing against the wall. It was stumbling to it's feet in a daze. She walked towards it, and drove her sword through it's skull.

Arik was crouching against the far wall, face pale and hand over his mouth. He looked like he might be sick.

Fina approached slowly, feeling as though he were some sort of injured animal - approach too quickly and she risked frightening him away.

"Arik?" She knelt before him, digging in her pack for her water skin. She held it out to him, but he shook his head. Fina waited patiently for him to do something.

"I just Shouted."

" _Geh._ " She replied calmly.

"And I just killed a Draugr."

" _Geh._ "

"Okay." There was a grim acceptance in his voice. He sat down with a thump and took the water skin from her, taking several gulps of it before passing it back. Fina took a few swallows herself before tucking it away.

Suddenly, Arik let out a nervous sputter of laughter. "Next room, then?"

"One moment."

Fina stood up and looked towards the next door. She closed her eyes and found Life Seek within herself. Even if it meant she was without the ability to Shout for a bit longer, there was no way she was risking going blind into a room of ten Draugr again.

" _Laas yah!_ " Whereas the other Shouts so far has been forcefully loud, this one came out as nearly a whisper.

Beyond her, three glowing orbs of red lit up. It was strange - they were clearly not within this room, but were close enough she knew that they were not far off.

Arik stood up beside her. "I can see them."

Fina nodded. "Looks like they are in the next room." Now that she was still and relaxed, she was also beginning to feel the tell-tale pull of the Word Wall. "Do you feel that?" She asked.

He closed his eyes, breathing and relaxing himself. " _Aan mul. Rotmulaag._  A Word of Power."

"Aye." She grinned at him, thrilled that they were able to share this. He smiled back, colour steadily returning to his face, and reached down to touch her hand.

Together, they started towards the next room.

Inside, it was even larger than the last chamber, but this was not the worrying part of it. The entire place was covered in spider webs. Everything. Every inch of floor, wall, and ceiling.

Fina was fairly certain that she could make out the shape of the Word Wall at the end of the room, but how could one be sure? Arik shivered beside her.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness of the room, she became aware of the dark figure scuttling across the floor towards them. Frostbite spider.

They both drew their swords, and Fina took the lead, tossing the torch through the spider webs towards it, burning a path for them. The spider recoiled from the flames, and a spray of venom left it's pincers, illuminated like gemstones in the air as it flew across the floor.

Fina dodged it, darting forwards to slash one of it's legs out from under it. Arik followed, and together they slashed at the poor thing until it was nothing but a writhing ball on the floor. Before it could spray venom again, they plunged their swords through it's fuzzy body. With a squelch, they withdrew and the beast fell still.

"Yuck." Fina shuddered.

"Fina." Arik was staring over her shoulder and she spun around to see another spider, this one slowly dropping upon them from the ceiling. It was nearly three times larger than the last.

"Stendarr's mercy." She murmured, backing up as it descended.

" _Yol?_ "

Fina shook her head. "It's too soon."

The spider hit the ground and leapt forward, surprising them both. Fina was ready, brandishing her sword and swinging at it's vulnerable underside. Somehow, she missed.

Arik darted to the side, trying to take out a leg like they had with the last one. Unfortunately, although he made contact, it was not a strong enough hit and all he did was cause a small cut.

The spider advanced on Fina, enormous pincers clicking together as it snapped at her. She backed up until she tripped, sprawling backwards over something squishy and putrid smelling. She plunged her hands down, trying to push herself up again, but that's when she realised what it was - she had tripped over a rotting corpse. It had been made ichorous and gooey by the spider's venom and so her body's weight had fallen right into it, or rather - right through it. Her hands were coated with black congealed blood and guts and smelled of fermenting fish and manure.

She nearly threw up right then, but the spider hovering above her brought her back to the current situation.

Fina hoisted her sword up, trying desperately to stab at it's mouth, eyes, stomach - anything. She hit a leg, slicing it out from under it. The spider faltered, but used it's other limbs to compensate for the loss, aiming a pincer for her chest and rearing up to strike.

With a cry, Arik charged in from the side, burying his sword into the side of the spider's body. He twisted the blade, turning a blow that would have simply slowed the beast down, into a killing blow. The spider screamed - if you could call it that - and tried to pull away from the intruding object.

Fina took the opportunity and thrust her sword up, straight between it's pincers and through the top of it's head, until the tip of her blade came out the other side and through one of it's eyes. She let go of her sword and scrambled up before any of it's venom could hit her, but still was completely covered in bits of dead body.

" _Pruzah grah._ " Fina said, trying desperately to wipe some of the filth off onto her leggings and cringing at the smell.

Arik's nose wrinkled. "What _is_  that?"

She gestured at the body. It was wrapped in a silken cocoon of spider web, broken open and oozing where she had fallen on it.

Arik frowned and shook his head. " _Krosis._ "

Fina gathered a make-shift glove of web around her hand and went to retrieve her sword from the spider's mouth, wiping it clean of venom before she dared let her bare skin touch it again. Arik did the same, and then they continued towards the Word Wall.

"There was one more, wasn't there?" Arik whispered to her as they walked.

That gave her pause. "Yes, there was."

Near the end of the chamber, the webs abruptly ended and the rest of the room was clear. Fina was glad for it, her entire body was coated in them - from her hair to her sword belt and sheath, all the way down to the tread of her boots. Still, it made her wary.

_That cannot be a good sign._

It was not a mystery for much longer. Before the Word Wall, sat an altar. Atop the altar, sat a coffin. And out of the coffin, came a Draugr Deathlord.

"Back. Now." She hissed at Arik, nearly shoving him out of the way. He retreated without protest, and Fina readied herself. She had only ever faced a Deathlord once before in her life, and never alone.

Although, this time she did have Shouts.

 _But so does it._  She reminded herself.

It rose it's ebony battleaxe over it's head and charged her. Fina braced herself, raising her sword defensively to block the attack. She slid back, pushing with her heels in a desperate attempt to keep herself upright. When they came to a stop she shoved back violently, managing to put some distance between them.

She could tell the Deathlord was readying itself to Shout at her, so she took the opportunity to slash at it. Although it stopped her blade easily, she did prevent it from opening it's mouth.

Fina grunted and kicked out, connecting with it's leg and trying to take it out from below. No such luck. Even with stick-thin legs, the creature remained upright and sturdy.

Their weapons clashed again, and Fina spun, twisting herself so she could be free of it. One thing she did have on her side - she was faster.

" _FUS RO DAH!_ " She Shouted at it's back. It hit, but she was too close and the recoil claimed her as well, shoving her and Deathlord away from each other. Fina was thrown towards the Word Wall where she collided with a smack.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik watched Fina hit the Wall and felt his breath vanish. She slid to the floor, unmoving.

 _No, no, no._  His first instinct was to go to her, but then he remembered the Draugr. He turned to look at the beast, unlike any Draugr they'd faced before. He sensed it was a higher rank than the others - it was certainly more powerful, and it's weapons were made of ebony.

The creature spun on him, as if sensing his eyes. It cocked it's head, a strange guttural noise of curiosity bubbled in it's throat.

Arik tried not to panic.  _Breathe. Be calm. Breathe. Be calm. Breathe - oh Kyne give me strength!_

The Draugr charged him and Arik ducked, hearing the thwack as the axe hit the wooden beam he'd been hiding behind. The weapon was lodged tightly in the wood, much to his good fortune, which bought him a few precious moments.

He darted around it, keeping his sword ready, watching as it confusedly tugged at the handle, not understanding why it wasn't coming free.

_Come on, Arik._

Abandoning the axe, the Draugr turned on him, instead drawing a dagger from it's side. Arik could swear it was  _grinning_  at him.

It started to run, and Arik resisted the same instinct. He assumed the position Fina had taught him, and held his ground. The Draugr was upon him, and Arik cut upwards for it's throat. At the same moment, the Draugr aimed for his neck - but Arik was quicker.

As a result, Arik met his target, and the Draugr's target was forced higher - to Arik's eye. They both screamed, but only Arik made any sound. The pain was unbelievable. It burst inside of his head like an explosion of fire, and spread throughout the rest of his body like a chain reaction. He crumbled to his knees, clutching at his face and feeling blood welling over his fingers.

He heard the Draugr fall, and with one eye could see it was slain.

Screams continued to echo off of the walls of the room, and Arik only half recognised them as his own.


	23. Ancient Voices

**F I N A**

 

There was a blinding pain in her head, and she found herself unable to breathe. Her eyes were swimming, trying to grasp onto something tangible in a world of swirling colours.

 

Stone. The chanting of a dozen ancient voices within her mind. The world going black, and then fading to yellow, like flame. Stone.

 

An altar. A coffin.

 

Stone.

 

Black.

 

An altar.

A coffin.

Black.

Stone.

Voices chanting.

 

Yellow.

Flame.

Stone.

Voices chanting.

Black.

 

Fina knew she needed to follow those voices. Suddenly her lungs found air. She rolled over, clawing her way along the ground and towards the Word Wall. The rune was glowing as she pulled herself to her knees and pressed her hand to it.

 

Immediately she felt relief. The words revealed themselves to her and she breathed in and out, in and out.

 

_Kaan drem ov._ She knew it immediately as the one Arik had used on her. _Kyne’s Peace._

 

Now that she was herself again, the current situation flooded back to her...and she heard the screaming. She was on her feet in an instant, and turned around to see Arik on his knees, blood pouring down his face.

 

The Draugr Deathlord lay beside him, motionless. Fina was across the room in a flash, hands on Arik’s shoulders.

 

“Arik?” She examined his face, trying to determine the source of the blood. And yet he screamed. And screamed.

And screamed.

 

She could see the bloodied dagger on the floor beside him and picked it up, examining it. Fina held it to her nose, sniffing.

 

_Fear poison._

 

Fina cursed, knowing she didn’t have anything with her that could treat something like this. But then…

 

The Shout.

 

_Kyne truly must favour you, Arik._

 

“ _Kaan drem ov_!” Immediately Arik fell quiet and relaxed into her arms, sobbing. Whether from pain, exhaustion, or the poison, she wasn’t sure. Fina wrapped her arms around him rocking him back and forth until he had quieted some more.

 

“Arik, I need to see your face, my love.” She pulled back, meeting some resistance from him. He still had one hand firmly pressed over the wound.

 

Fina slipped off her pack and dug through it, pulling out a roll of bandage she’d brought just as a precaution - or so she had thought. She ripped off a strand, and coaxed Arik’s hand away from his face. From the amount of blood, it was impossible to tell what damage was really done. But then again - head wounds did tend to bleed profusely, often giving the effect they were much worse than they actually were.

 

She hoped that was true in this case.

 

Fina began to dab gently at it, feeling Arik grip tightly at her knee, wincing, breath hissing through his teeth.

 

“You’re going to be fine, Arik.” She murmured softly as she worked, trying her best to keep her face light. “The blade just had a little fear poison on it. It’s making this all seem much worse than it is. You’re doing very well.”

 

As the blood came away, she could see that there was a single gash from the inside of his left brow, running diagonally across his eye and stopping just below the peak of his cheekbone. Whether or not any damage was done to his eye itself, she wasn’t sure.

 

“Can you see out of this eye?” Fina asked tentatively once she had nearly all of the blood cleared.

 

Arik tried to blink, but winced. She stopped his fingers from instinctively touching the wound. After a moment, he shook his head.

 

“No.”

 

“Sometimes with injuries like these it just takes a little while for it to come back.” She smiled reassuring, but truly she had no idea. Fina was no healer, but she had never seen an eye injury end well. Carefully, she folded a piece of the bandage and pressed it over the eye.

 

“Hold this.”

 

He did as she said, and then she wound the rest of the cloth around his head and tied it off, securing everything in place. Although she was sure the gash itself would leave a scar, it did not need much attention.

 

Fina dug around in her pack and fished out a health potion. She passed it to him, and he downed it without complaint.

 

They sat there in the chamber, not moving. Fina was beginning to hate the familiar guilt in her gut. How did she keep getting him into these situations? It was as if she was purposely thrusting him into harms way at every chance she got.

 

Arik sighed as the healing potion took effect, the pain relief obviously helping to calm him even further than Kyne’s Peace had.

 

His hands found Fina’s and he gripped them, shaking his head. “That was a waking nightmare.”

 

“Oh, Arik.” Fina could feel the sorrow tightening her throat and she swallowed. “You were not ready, I should have listened.”

 

“ _Nid._ ”

 

She knew that right now his being angry with her should not be her greatest worry, but the anxiety the thought caused was sharp and raw.

 

“You could not have known.” He said softly, squeezing her hand. “I cannot be angry at you. I’m just glad you’re okay. When you fell, I feared the worst.”

 

They were both quiet for a moment, sitting and feeling the breath and life of each other.

 

“What was the Word?”

 

“Kyne’s Peace.” He looked up at that, and Fina shrugged. “Kyne truly must favour you.”

 

Afterwards, they retreated to the entrance room where they had first rested by the brazier. Fina set up their bedrolls and then went to work collecting some snow in an empty burial urn to melt. She used the melted snow to water the horses and to refill their waterskins. She was also able to make some tea, which she knew would help to further settle Arik after the day’s excitement and cleanse the poison from his system.

 

They sat huddled together before the flames, Fina sat behind Arik with her arms around his middle. His hands rested on hers, and it was enough to let her know that they were okay.

 

When he grew tired, Fina let Arik sleep, knowing she would not be able to find rest anyway. She sat by his side, watching the flames dance and wondering if any of this had been worth it.

 

**A R I K**

 

He wasn’t sure if what he found was sleep or not. Although his thoughts were wandering and dream-like, he was somewhere between.

 

He was aware of Fina’s hand in his, aware of the glow of the flames, and aware of the painful throbbing in his head. He was also frightfully aware that before Fina had bandaged his head, he had not been able to see out of his left eye. There hadn’t even been a detection of light. Nothing. Just blackness.

 

Something still felt out of place inside of him, something foreign that prickled beneath his skin, causing his heart to beat just a little too fast and his thoughts to turn dark. He knew it was the fear poison, as Fina had said, but it felt so real. Like it would be there forever and he would never be rid of it.

 

Arik was using every technique he could to keep himself calm.

 

_At least,_ He told himself. _I don’t feel any need to blame Fina for this. There is no anger, just terror._

 

Finally, he was able to reach a point where his mind went blank, save for the awareness of his steady breathing. This was as close to sleep as Arik was going to get.

 

Some hours later, Fina roused him.

 

“Come on, Arik. We had best head back. There will be enough light now. I dare not leave your wound untended any longer.”

 

He moved automatically, following her lead and packing up. Outside, the sky was still nearly black - only just beginning to lighten to a bluey-grey. He again was glad that Fina’s eyesight was so articulate.

 

_Will mine ever even be half-decent again?_

 

The cold air helped to wake him further, and he shivered. Fina touched his arm, concern written across her features. He nodded, and turned to pat Krein. The mare knickered at him gently, twitching as he removed the thick fur pelt from her back.

 

They mounted, and set out across the sea of white towards Windhelm.

 

Fina led them at a relentless pace, and the city walls swelled before them in nearly half the time it originally took. She paid one of the stable boys to run their bags straight to the palace, deciding it would be best to take Arik straight to the healer.

 

At the temple, Arik was hit with the thick aroma of incense. His head swam with it, and he had to grip the back of a pew to keep himself upright. Fina sat him down, just as the healer - was her name Ingit? - hurried to them.

 

“A Draugr Deathlord got him across the eye. His dagger was tainted with fear poison.” Fina explained. “I cleaned the wound and bandaged it, but I didn’t have anything to treat the poison.”

 

“How in Talos’ name is he not screaming the place down?” Ingit asked, hurriedly stripping the bandages from Arik’s head.

 

“I used a Shout - Kyne’s Peace. It calmed him. He is also skilled at meditation. I think that helped, too.”

 

“Poor lad.” She clicked her tongue, setting the dirty bandages aside. A younger girl came and set down a bowl of water and clean bandages. “We need a bottle of cure poison, Lottie.”

 

The girl hurried off again.

 

Fina ducked out of the way, and with his vision reduced to half, Arik couldn’t see her anymore.

 

“Fina?” He heard the shaky panic in his own voice, and hated it. She reached out and touched his shoulder - she was standing behind him.

 

“I’m here.” She said softly. Arik reached up and gripped her hand tightly, jaw set. He tried not to look at Ingit’s face. He didn’t want to see whatever expression it held as she inspected his eye.

 

“Hello, Arik.” Ingrit spoke to him now.

 

He couldn’t bring himself to respond.

 

“Are you able to see out of this eye at all?”

 

“No.”

 

“Colours, shifts in light, shadows, anything?”

 

“No.”

 

Ingit nodded firmly.

 

Lottie returned, and Ingit instructed he drink the potion she handed him. It tasted of bitter leaves. Almost immediately, some of the edgy darkness left his mind. Fina squeezed his hand and he was thankful for her presence.

 

“The cut is not overly bad, but I am going to stitch it up to be safe.” She said, readying string and a curved needle. “This will hurt, but I have a quick hand.”

 

Arik’s grip tightened on Fin and her free hand came to rest on his other shoulder.

 

“ _Su’um_.” She whispered to him. “Breathe.”

 

He took a deep breath, trying not to wince as the needle entered the skin above his eye. Ingrit was right on both accounts - it did hurt, but she was fast. She stitched all the way from a little above his eyebrow to just before the hollow of his eye, and then again under his lower lashes until an inch below his eye.

 

_Is it that long?_

 

When she was done, Ingrit rubbed a salve over the wound and then carefully wrapped it again. She handed Arik a small glass pot and also two small vials of liquid.

 

“The salve in the pot will help with the scarring, and also with the pain. Apply it once a day. Take one of the vials tomorrow morning, and one the morning after that. They are also for pain, and for making sure the poison leaves your body safely.” Ingrit smiled warmly at him and then stood up.

 

“Could I speak to you for a moment, Fina?”

 

“Of course.” Fina replied. She pressed a kiss to the top of Arik’s head. “I’ll be right back.”

 

Arik let go of her reluctantly, suspecting that whatever Ingrit had to say to her - it wasn’t going to be good. What did she have to say that couldn’t be said in front of Arik? Was it about his eye? He struggled with himself, feeling like he wanted to cry. Could he even do that, now?

 

_Don’t be foolish_. He chastised himself.

 

**F I N A**

 

Fina had no idea what Ingrit could have to say to her, but she knew it could not be good.

 

The healer pulled her into a side room, closing the door behind them with a soft click. Fina crossed her arms.

 

“What is it?” There was a sharp sting to her voice that she hadn’t intended.

 

“Arik’s eye…”

 

“Yes?”

 

Ingrit shook her head. “The blade has damaged it beyond repair. He will not be able to see from it again. I’m sorry, Lady Norfina.”

 

Fina felt as if someone had ripped the ground out from below her feet. She backed into the wall and shook her head. “That cannot be true.”

 

The healer frowned at her sympathetically.

 

She felt rage boil within her when she received that look. It was one she hated. Hated more than anything. Fina closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm. This was not the time for anger. Ingrit was not to blame.

 

_I am, though_. She told herself. _STOP!_ Another voice in her head told her. _You could not have prevented this_. Fina felt like weeping.

 

_Hold yourself together._ She opened her eyes and shook her head.

 

“Nothing can be done? No magic? Nothing at all?”

 

“I’m afraid not.” Ingrit held something out to her. A black strip of... _An eye patch._

Fina barely contained herself from crumpling it in her palm. Instead, she shoved it into a pouch on her belt. Her breath left her in a huff.

 

“I imagined the news would be best coming from you. You seem...close.”

 

“Yes.” Fina gritted her teeth. “Thank you.”

 

She turned and walked back out into the main room. Did she tell him here? Back at the palace? How did she say it?

 

Fina did the best to smooth her features as she walked back to him, flashing a small smile.

 

“Come on. I want to take you somewhere.” She held her hand out to him, and he took it hesitantly. Fina pulled him to his feet and lead him outside.

 

Much to her relief, Arik didn’t question her. She took him to her family home. Inside, Lenora was in her usual place before the fire, knitting needles clicking away. The older woman looked up, clearly surprised by the intrusion.

 

“Fini? What…”

 

“Hi Mama.” Fina said softly, feeling Arik go rigid beside her. She squeezed his hand.

 

Lenora stood up and set her knitting aside.

 

“Is it alright if we go upstairs for a little while?” Fina asked.

 

“Of course, my darling.” Although Fina knew her mother would be beyond confused, she didn’t question her daughter.

 

Fina pulled Arik up the stairs and down the hall to her childhood bedroom. Inside, it was exactly as it always had been. A small, single bed, an eclectic mix of wooden play swords, toy soldiers, and dolls. Charcoal drawings of horses and trees and mountains. A miniature practise dummy, stuffing spilling on the worn rag rug. And, of course, a million things knitted by her mother.

 

“Sit down.” She murmured, and Arik sat on the bed, glancing around forlornly.

 

“Was that your mother?”

 

“ _Geh_.”

 

“Fina, why did you bring me here?”

 

There were already tears running from his right eye, sparkling in the light from the window. Fina knelt before him, brushing the tears away with the pad of her thumb. He knew. She could tell he knew.

 

“Because this is the most comforting place in the world to me.”

 

Arik’s mouth was trembling and he was shaking his head, though she doubted he knew he was doing it. The movement was rapid, subconscious.

 

“Just say it, Fina.”

 

Fina felt tears threatening to break from her own eyes, but blinked them back. She had to be the strong one in this moment. She couldn’t break, too. Not now.

 

“Say it!”

 

“The vision won’t come back.”

 

Arik pushed her hands away from his face and wiped at the tears himself. He took several deep breaths, muttering in dragon language to himself under his breath too quickly for her to understand.

 

Fina clasped her hands in her lap and waited silently.

 

Slowly, he looked up. She searched his face, seeing a sudden fire burning in his single eye. They stared at each other for an imperceptible amount of time. And then, he launched himself at her.

 

From the sudden violence of his action, Fina nearly expected him to start hitting her. Instead, he was kissing her. They tumbled backwards, and she landed on her back with a thud.

 

Arik hovered over her, bracing himself on his hands. He didn’t give her long to adjust before his mouth was upon her again, nipping at her lips like she had once done to him. She would give him that - he was a quick learner when it came to her body.

 

Part of her felt like she should stop him. Was it the after effects of the poison? The anger? Sadness? Desperation? But then he was unclasping her cloak, loosening the ties of her cuirass, slipping his fingers against her bare skin.

 

The heat radiating from him was so intoxicating and she stopped doubting and started feeling.

 

Fina granted his tongue entrance to her mouth, fingers stretching up to free him of his cloak. Arik sat up above her, tugging off his cuirass and tunic. She drew her nails gently down his bare chest.

 

When he crashed back upon her, even their teeth collided, but it didn’t matter because somehow both of their sword belts were gone, their boots, and then -

 

“Arik.” Her cuirass was on the floor beside her, and her tunic halfway up her stomach, Arik’s hands gripping the hem. He stopped and looked at her.

 

She touched the side of his neck, feeling his pulse beating against her fingertips. His face was flushed, lips red and swollen and she longed to kiss him again, to continue what they had started.

 

“ _Geh_?”

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

Arik let go of her shirt and sat back a little. Her eyes strayed, noticing his arousal very clearly being restrained. She ached at the sight.

 

_Focus_. Her attention snapped back to his face. To the white cloth obscuring one of his beautiful copper eyes from her view. An unseeing eye.

 

He watched her examine him, eyes wetting again. Fina leaned forward and kissed his cheeks.

 

“Please.” His voice was so small. She felt herself shiver as the word rolled down her spine.

 

Fina nodded, focusing her love for him into a slow kiss. When she pulled back, she stood up and tugged on his hand until he joined her.

 

_I did not imagine this would happen in my childhood bedroom with my mother downstairs._

 

For their first time, she would not have it happen on the floor. It would be slow and gentle and soft, as he deserved.

 

She ran her hands up his bare sides and around to his back, pulling him against her as she kissed him again. When Arik seemed to have calmed, she took a step back and gripped the edge of her tunic, pulling it over her head. She unwound the cloth that held her breasts in place, letting it drop to the floor.

 

Fina was reminded of the time Arik had seen her like this at High Hrothgar, and evidently he was too, because they both found themselves smiling. He lifted a hand to touch at the scar the Frost Troll had given her.

 

Tentatively, his fingers travelled lower, brushing over her breasts with a delicate care. Fina watched him, feeling her breath quicken when he cupped his hands around them and began to massage.

 

She ran her hands up his biceps, enjoying that she could feel the beginnings of stronger muscles there now.

 

Arik kissed her again, lips soft and more sure of themselves with each passing moment. She moaned, body responding readily to each of his touches.

 

She broke apart from him, making enough room that she could hook her fingers into the waistband of his trousers and give them a tug.

 

“Off.” She commanded, and then stepped back to pull off her own.

 

When they stood before each other without a speck of cloth between them, they stepped back and simply looked at each other, admiring. Whatever of Arik’s face had remained pale was now the colour of snowberries. It was strange for Fina to feel such love wash over her. Strange, but entirely welcome.

 

Fina grinned at him and then took his hand, leading him over to the bed. She touched his cheek and leaned up to brush their lips and noses together.

 

“Lie down.”

 

He did as she said, albeit with a shaky, self-conscious energy to his movements. She didn’t leave him on his own for long. Once he was flat, she climbed over him, a leg on either side of his stomach.

 

Arik’s hands came to rest on her thighs, looking up at her uncertainly. Fina leaned over him, a hand on either side of his head. Their bare chests pressed together as she kissed him hungrily, drinking in his scent and taste, breathing him, and breathing herself right back.

 

He moaned against her lips and she hummed, breaking apart to smile at him, feeling his hands sweep up her back.

 

“ _Brit Dovahkiin_.” Arik murmured, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. Fina could feel his hardness poking between her legs, and twitched her hips against it. He gasped in response, his mouth falling open.

 

“ _Brit_?” She murmured, hearing the husky edge to her own voice.

 

“Beau-” Fina repeated the motion, and he was unable to finish the word, instead surrendering to another gasp. “Beautiful.” He swallowed.

 

She sat up, looking down at him in surprise. No man - perhaps besides her Uncle - had ever said that to her before. Fina bit her lip.

 

“ _Juli_.” She said teasingly. Arik smiled shyly. “Are you ready?”

He nodded.

 

Fina took his hands and placed them on her hips. His hands were clammy against her skin. She shifted herself, carefully grasping him and guiding his tip towards her entrance. With an agonising slowness, Fina lowered herself. All of her breath left her in a rush and she closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the satisfying fullness of Arik within her.

 

When her eyes fluttered open, Arik was watching her with a sense of wonder, mouth open. His fingers were digging painfully into her hips, but she didn’t mind.

 

Using his chest for support, Fina began to move. Their eyes were locked, and Arik didn’t seem to be able to contain the small noises he was making.

 

She smiled fondly at him and leaned further over, so that they were chest to chest again. He kissed her fiercely, hands burying themselves in her hair. As she moved, he experimentally moved with her, bringing his hips up to meet her.

 

Fina moaned into his mouth and then was forced to pull away, not able to kiss him and have enough air to keep up her pace at the same time. She pressed her forehead into his shoulder, wave after wave of hot pleasure radiating through her entire being.

 

But, Divines, did it feel _good_.

 

Arik kept himself somewhat quiet by peppering her neck with steaming kisses, interspersed with whispered versions of her name - or what sounded vaguely like her name. Whatever they were, each one drove her closer and closer to some unseen and glorious end.

 

When he was gasping with it and his movements were erratic, she knew she had to stop him. Fina stilled her movements, slowly sliding off of him and to the side. He looked at her, clearly confused, but didn’t complain much when her hand took over, gliding up and down until he met his release, spilling himself over her hand and his own stomach.

 

Arik cried out, burying his face in her shoulder, hands gripping her arm tightly. Shallow breaths wracked his body while the tremors of pleasure almost visibly roared through him. Fina kissed his head, waiting quietly until his body stilled and he relaxed.

 

He looked down at the mess they’d made, and then back up at her.

 

“I am not quite ready to be with child.” She said gently. “There are herbs I can begin to take, though. For future.”

 

Arik nodded, understanding.

 

“Grab your tunic.”

 

He did as she said, reaching over the side of the bed to retrieve it. Fina took it from him and wiped them both clean. When she looked up at him, he was smiling shyly. She smiled back, and sat up, pulling on her trousers.

 

Arik lay back for a moment, still a little shaky. She felt his fingers trace down her bare back, and glanced back at him.

 

“I love you.” He murmured.

 

The words caught her by surprise, and she stared at him, eyes wide. For a moment, she faltered.

 

_I could have never wished for more than this man._

 

“And I you.”

 

Arik came to sit beside her, tugging on his own trousers. Fina donned her tunic and then leaned against him for a moment, not truly wanting to leave yet. She was still throbbing with the feeling of him, still craving more of his touch.

 

He sighed, raising a hand to touch gingerly at the stitches in his brow. “At least I’ve still got the one.”

 

Fina stared at him, unsure if he was trying to make a joke. He stared back at her, and then his lips twitched in a half smile.

 

“I’m okay, Fina. Truly.” He sighed. “In fact, I’m _enormously_ better now.”

 

“Enormous is a good word for it.”

 

“ _What_?” He sputtered.

 

Fina giggled and reached for her cuirass. “It’s a compliment, Arik.”

 

He swatted at her bottom as she stood to pull the garment on.

 

“You realise you’re going to have to meet my mother on the way out?”

 

“I’m not sure there could have been a worse time.”

 

“Look at it this way - compared to yesterday’s events, it will seem easy.”

 

“Aye, there is that.”

 

Once they were fully dressed, they started downstairs. Lenora was still sitting before the fire, humming to herself. She looked up and smiled as they entered.

 

“Mama, this is Arik. Arik, Lenora - my mother.”

 

Lenora stood up and came over to them, a broad smile on her face. “Arik, I have heard many good things about you.”

 

“I have heard many good things about you, too. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Arik said, offering his hand.

 

Lenora - who Fina was sure would rather just embrace him - seemed to sense Arik’s unease, and simply shook his hand. Much to her credit, the woman also made a point of not commenting on his face.

 

“We best get back to the palace, Mama.”

 

“Of course, Fini. Visit soon, won’t you?”

 

Fina nodded and then headed for the door, Arik in tow.

 

Inside the palace, they were immediately aware that something big was happening. The normally quiet place was abuzz with servants and soldiers, and loud voices were pouring out from the battle room.

 

Fina spotted Jorleif darting past them and grabbed him by the arm.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Fina! Thank Talos you’re back. The couriers have returned from High Hrothgar and Tullius. You’d better get into the battle room.”

 

He didn’t need to say anything. Fina started to run, pushing her way through the crowd. She skidded to a stop at the entrance to the battle room.

 

Galmar saw her and waved her through.

 

Ulfric was smiling.

 

“I don’t know what that brilliant little friend of yours said, my girl, but the Greybeards could not have been happier to help!” Galmar grinned at her.

 

“There he is!” Ulfric boomed, thumping Arik roughly on the back. He nearly sent the poor thing tumbling over.

 

Fina expected herself to be jealous of the interaction, but she was anything but - she was beaming.

 

“What on Nirn happened to your face, boy?” Ulfric asked him, taking him by the shoulders. Fina moved to step in and help Arik, but Galmar pulled her away before she could.

 

“Tullius has written back, too. He agreed, although was none too kind about it. As is expected.” He scratched his beard and grunted. “Still, good news. The Jarl has decided you’ll set out tomorrow. He’s in good spirits - better than he’s been in for a bloody long time.”

 

“That is excellent news.” Fina knew it was amazing, but still, she was trying to get a clear view across the room. She stood on her toes, and what she saw took her breath away.

 

Her Uncle was actually _embracing_ Arik. Full out hugging him. The sight nearly brought her to tears.

 

It was as if everything was falling into place.

  
  
  
  



	24. Blood and Fur

**A R I K**

 

“Shor’s bones, what happened to your face, boy?” Ulfric’s hands were rough on his shoulders, and Arik felt suddenly small and vulnerable.

 

“Draugr Deathlord.”

 

The jubilant flush that had been on the Jarl’s face faded a little and his grip softened. “Is the damage permanent?”

 

Arik ducked his head, nodding. He couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s about as useless now as I am with a sword.”

 

Without warning, Ulfric’s arms were around him, enveloping him entirely and nearly lifting him off of his feet. The bear of a man smelled of damp fur and spices, an oddly comforting mixture. Arik’s arms awkwardly hugged back, barely making it halfway around the Jarl’s bulk.

 

“I am truly sorry, son.” Ulfric said, letting him go and holding him at an arm’s length again. “Talos watch over you. I owe you a great debt, if it were not for you, this meeting would not be possible. Do not forget it.” He patted Arik on the cheek and smiled warmly.

 

Arik’s entire body glowed with pride and he couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face. Never before had someone said such things to him. Never. His cheeks hurt from the strain of the smile, but he didn’t care.

 

Today felt like the most bittersweet day of his entire life. From his eye, to the moment with Fina, and now this?

 

He felt Fina’s fingers slip into his, and he glanced down, seeing she was carefully obscuring the gesture from view in the folds of her cloak.

 

“It’s seems that you have made quite the impression.”

 

“So it does.” He replied.

 

Fina leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You had best be in my room tonight.”

 

A chill rolled down his spine and he craned his neck so his right eye could see her clearly. Her eyes were laughing. She gave a squeeze to his hand and then let him go, moving to speak with Ulfric.

 

Arik didn’t see Fina for the rest of the evening. Apparently, neither did Esbern, because the old Blade captured him at the evening meal and made him recount their entire adventure in great detail. This was not something Arik wanted to do - especially not so soon - but he did so patiently. He reminded himself that although Esbern could read books like no other, he was not quite so skilled at reading people.

 

After dinner, he decided to bathe. There was still some blood on his face and neck, not to mention the sticky remnants on his stomach - proof that what he and Fina had done earlier was not a waking dream. He couldn’t help but smile as he washed it away.

 

As she had instructed him, Arik arrived at her room that night. When Fina answered the door, she was wearing nothing but a white tunic that sat midway down her thighs. He was instantly reminded of the dream he’d had of her all those weeks - months? - ago at High Hrothgar. She had been wearing - or, not wearing - exactly the same thing.

 

“Hello.” She said coyly.

 

“Hello.” He replied in kind.

 

Fina stepped out of the way to let him in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Although they’d been sharing a bed for days, tonight felt different. For one thing - Fina was normally wearing more clothing.

 

“Nice tunic.” Arik commented, reaching out to give a gentle tug at the hem. He received a laugh from her in response and she caught his wrist, pulling him closer.

 

Fina had bathed, too. Her hair was damp and warm, smelling of lavender. Arik pushed his fingers through it, bringing a few strands to his nose and inhaling. He hummed happily as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his chest.

 

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly.

 

“Overwhelmed.” He answered truthfully, letting her hair go to clasp his fingers against her lower back.

 

“I do not doubt it.”

 

Arik pressed two fingers under her chin, raising it so that he could kiss her. When they pulled apart, she reached up to gently trace the stitches above his eye. His eye closed. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what the other one did - he couldn’t feel it. Whether it was opened or closed or whether anything even remained in it’s throbbing socket.

 

“What did it look like?” He asked suddenly.

 

Fina looked puzzled.

 

“My left eye, when you cleaned it. When Ingit cleaned it. What did it look like?”

 

“Swollen. Not all the way shut, but half open. It didn’t react as the other did, it didn’t move at all. It was a strange colour - like milk.” She frowned, fingers moving to his cheek instead.

 

Arik sighed, trying to imagine it. It sounded like a gruesome sight.

 

“ _Krosis_ , Arik.”

 

He shook his head and kissed her again. Fina’s lips were addictive. Once he began to kiss her, it felt as though he could never stop. He hooked his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

 

Arik pushed her back until she was against the wall, pinning her there with his knee between her legs. She made a small whining noise when he stopped.

 

“Remember what you said about taking you against a wall?”

 

Fina grinned.

 

**F I N A**

 

In the morning, Fina awoke to knocking on the door. She was naked and tangled with an equally naked Arik. She jumped, and he jumped and she covered his mouth before he could speak. She pressed her index finger against her lips to tell him to be silent, just as another knock sounded on the door.

 

“Fina?”

 

It was her Uncle.

 

_Stendarr’s mercy._

 

“Coming!” She nearly tumbled out of the bed and scrambled around to find a tunic and trousers, yanking them on while Arik quickly did the same.

 

“May I come in?”

 

“Just a moment!”

 

Once they were both dressed, Arik stood well out of the way and Fina opened the door wide enough she could pop her head out into the hall. Ulfric stood outside, fully dressed in his Jarl’s armour, a massive package in his arms.

 

“Oh good, you’re decent.” Without hesitating, Ulfric pushed the door all the way open and let himself into the room.

 

Fina covered her mouth, staring wide-eyed at his back.

 

“Oh. Arik. Good morning.”

 

“G-good morning.” Arik stammered. “I-I’ll just, um - “ He gestured to the door.

 

“Yes.” Ulfric nodded, moving out of the way so Arik could leave the room, not before giving Fina a look of terror. She tried not to laugh.

 

When the door closed behind him, the Jarl turned to her.

 

“Well, I knew you were fond of the boy, Fina, but I’m not sure I approve of your sharing a bed with him.”

 

Fina shrugged. “He has nightmares. It helps him sleep if he is not alone.”

 

_Well, it is not entirely a lie._

 

Ulfric looked skeptical, but let it drop. He set the package down on the table.

 

“Open it.” He said.

 

Fina stepped forwards, and untied the bit of brown string holding it together. She carefully unwrapped the paper. What she saw inside took her breath away.

 

“But Uncle...this is…”

 

“The uniform of a Stormcloak Officer.” He confirmed, eyes shining. “I had it made specially.”

 

Fina reached in, picking up the bear’s head helmet and staring into it’s eyes. “But, that would mean - “

 

“I’m promoting you.”

 

Although Fina was the Jarl’s niece, that didn’t mean she was granted any special treatment in his army. She was a good warrior - one of his best. But she was young. She made errors. She lacked experience. There were many in his army better suited.

 

_But they are not the Dragonborn._

 

Fina closed her eyes, feeling utterly conflicted. The reason for her promotion was her being the Dragonborn. Something she was born into - something that she had not worked to personally achieve. She suspected the other reason was for appearances - it would be much more visually threatening to Tullius if Ulfric showed up with the Dragonborn clad in the skin of a bear.

 

“What’s wrong, Fina?” Ulfric reached out and touched her arm. “I thought this would make you happy!”

 

She looked up at him, smiling sadly. “Of course, Uncle. I am honoured.”

 

“But?”

 

“I feel undeserving.”

 

“Undeserving!” Ulfric nearly roared. “You are Dragonborn! Chosen by Talos! Gift from the Divines! You have slain dragons, exposed traitors in our midst, delivered invaluable allies to our doorstep. You grow wiser and more mature by the day, Norfina. I hardly recognise you now. You more than deserve this title.”

 

Fina set down the helmet as Ulfric came around the table to her, taking her in his arms and squeezing her tightly. She was crushed, but pleasantly so, moved by his words.

 

“I have never been more proud, my dear.”

 

“Thank you, Uncle.”

 

“We will make it official when we return. Now you had best get ready, we leave in half an hour.” He let her go and departed, leaving her to stare at the thick fur armour that lay before her.

 

_It will be hard to wash blood from fur._

 

The party that left Windhelm consisted of herself, Arik, Esbern, Ulfric, and five soldiers. The soldiers would travel with them to Ivarstead, and remain there until the peace talk had concluded to escort them back again.

 

Arik was wearing the Stormcloak colours, a look Fina wasn’t sure she would ever get used to. As she entered the main hall in her officer’s uniform, all eyes were on her. Galmar smirked and winked, obviously having known the Jarl’s plans.

 

She ignored them for the most part, but she did feel rather uncomfortable. It was heavier than she was used to, and the fur itched against her skin. The metal claws protruding from the gauntlets would also take some getting used to.

 

Fina was not the only oddity, however - Arik had donned the black eyepatch Ingit had supplied. It made him look far more fearsome than he had any right to look. The thought made her smile, it was a reminder of how deceiving looks could be.

 

They set out on their journey, not meeting much difficulty along the way. They travelled south along the White River until it met with the Darkwater and continued from there onto Ivarstead. The only minor setback was a single dragon - not much of a task as it was sorely outnumbered. Still, no one besides Arik had seen her fight one before and so it came as quite a shock to them when she took it’s soul.

 

What Fina was truly dreading was the Steps. When they reached the first one, she stopped. Arik fell in step beside her and took her hand, as if sensing her thoughts.

 

“I did not think I would be back here.” He admitted.

 

She nodded, breathing out a sigh.

 

Ulfric and Esbern looked back at them in confusion, unsure why they had stopped. Her Uncle seemed to realise, then, that this would be more difficult for them than he had taken into consideration.

 

After a moment of gathering themselves, the plunged onward.

 

The going was slow, considering Esbern’s age. Luckily, they had convinced him to leave his books in Windhelm, so those would not further weigh him down. All he had with him was an abundance of blank parchment and ink.

 

Along the trail they met a few wolves but - much to Fina’s relief - no Frost Trolls.

 

Soon High Hrothgar was in their sights. With each step closer, Fina could feel Arik become tenser and tenser - and he was not the only one. Her own shoulders were tightening, and it was not just from the exertion of the climb. She was dreading seeing Arngeir again.

 

_Perhaps this was all an elaborate plan to lure me in so he could just Shout me off of the mountain._ She knew she was being ridiculous.

 

“Ah, that is a sight for sore eyes.” Ulfric said, pausing to breathe deeply. “I forgot how beautiful these old walls are.”

 

“So did I.” Arik said too quietly for anyone but her to hear. Fina smiled sadly at him.

 

“This is remarkable.” Esbern wheezed, bent at the waist, gasping for air. His face was lit up with excitement, despite his obvious exhaustion. Not for the first time, he reminded Fina of a small child that doesn’t know when to slow down.

 

As they made their way to the doors, Fina found Arik’s hand again. Both of them lagged behind, letting Ulfric enter first.

 

It was Wulfgar who greeted them. He nodded respectfully and shook Ulfric’s hand.

 

“Wulfgar, you haven’t aged a day.” The Jarl greeted warmly. Wulfgar winked at him, and then turned to shake Esbern’s hand.

 

“This is Esbern. He is a former Blade, who has been a great help to us.”

 

If Wulfgar was surprised, he didn’t show it.

 

And then the Elder turned to Fina and Arik. He touched Fina’s cheek, smiling fondly at her and the look spread a warmth through her chest.

 

When he turned to Arik, he looked as though he may cry. He shook his head, touching lightly at Arik’s scar. The stitches were gone - they’d had them taken out by a healer in Ivarstead the day before, but it was still a little swollen and red.

 

“ _Krosis_.” Wulfgar breathed, and the walls rattled around them, causing a cascade of stone and dust from the ceiling and walls. A few pots and nearby candle holders tipped on their sides.

 

“I’m not much of a fighter.” Arik offered by way of explanation.

 

Wulfgar embraced him, and Fina could see Arik instantly relax as he hugged him back. She had to look away, it was as if she was watching something truly intimate and private.

 

That was when she noticed Arngeir had entered. He watched her with the piercing gaze of a hawk stalking prey. She shied away from his gaze.

 

Luckily, Ulfric stole his attentions.

 

“Arngeir, it is good to see you.”

 

“Jarl Ulfric.” Arngeir greeted, shaking his hand. “Welcome.”

 

“Are we the first to arrive?”

 

“You are. We are expecting Jarl Balgruuf tomorrow, however. They would have arrived sooner, but were delayed.”

 

“That is a shame.” Ulfric shook his head.

 

Fina felt Arik beside her.

 

“Wulfgar will show you to your rooms. I do apologise, but you will have to share a room - we do not have enough for everyone.” Arngeir explained.

 

“Of course, it is no problem. We thank you for your hospitality.”

 

“Make yourselves comfortable, we will serve dinner within the hour.” Arngeir turned and left.

 

Wulfgar gestured, and they followed him down the hall. They passed their original bedrooms and even went beyond the temple - further than Fina had been before. The last room on the right was a sort of bunk room with four beds in it.

 

Fina dumped her things onto one of the beds and sat down, wasting no time in pulling off her boots and rubbing at her sore feet. The others followed suit, all groaning as they settled their aching bodies.

 

“I was a lot younger when I first climbed those steps.” Ulfric grumbled, rubbing at his calves.

 

That caused a grunt of laughter from Esbern. “I was simply a lot younger!”

 

Arngeir didn’t show up to the meal, and straight afterwards, they all retired to bed. Fina couldn’t sleep. She suspected Arik couldn’t either, by the way he kept tossing in his bed.

 

She got up after a while, and went to his side, pressing a hand over his mouth. He pulled her hand away and sat up.

 

They had missed each other, on the road. There had been very few moments where they could be alone together - not while surrounded by her Uncle and Esbern and five other soldiers. Now seemed like as good a time as any to steal some time.

 

UIfric was snoring away, and she was sure Esbern was passed out as well. Together, they left the room, closing the door soundlessly behind them.

 

Immediately in the hall he kissed her and she sighed, having missed it even more than she’d thought. Smiling, he took her hand and lead her back towards the temple.

 

In the shadows just outside the door, he pressed her back against the wall, capturing her mouth again and sending shuddering chills throughout her body. Fina arched her body into him, running her fingers through his hair and fighting to keep herself silent.

 

Arik finger’s began to work at loosening her trousers. Fina broke away, palm brushing against the ever-growing arousal brushing against her hip. He bit his lip to keep from making noise, ducking his head to nuzzle into the side of her neck.

 

As he did, Fina could see over his shoulder. And what she saw over his shoulder made her freeze. She stopped what she was doing and pressed a hand over Arik’s mouth, using her other hand to trap his own and hold him in place.

 

At the other side of the room, barely visible through the open door of his study, was Arngeir. In Arngeir’s arms, was Borri. At first, Fina couldn’t understand what it was she was seeing. But as she watched, she could tell they were moving. The movements, she realised with a shock, almost exactly mirrored what she and Arik were doing.

 

“ _Arik_ ,” She hissed in his ear. Fina let him go, and he turned slowly, taking in the same sight she was.

 

Arngeir and Borri were kissing. Arngeir’s fingers were rubbing at Borri through the dark folds of his robes, the two of them were obviously struggling to be as quiet as they possibly could. Fina covered her mouth, unable to move.

 

Arik started to pull on her, trying to get her to leave before they were seen. Fina knew that they should.

 

But then another part of her - a large, overwhelming part of her - was furious.

 

_That foolish old hypocrite!_ She opened her mouth like she meant to yell, feeling fus ripe in her throat. Arik clamped a hand over her mouth, single eye giving her a dangerous look.

 

But it was too late then, Arngeir had seen them. The two Elders jumped apart from each other, Borri looking purely panicked and Arngeir looking horrified.

 

Before anything further could happen, Arik grabbed Fina around the waist and dragged her down the hall.

 

She was trembling with constrained rage, hands balled into fists. Arik pulled her out the back doors into the courtyard where they didn’t have to be as quiet.

 

“How did he have the nerve to look you in the face and kick you out for breaking the same vow he has probably been breaking for years!” Her voice was dangerously high, and Arik placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her firmly, grounding her.

 

“Fina.” He said her name sharply.

 

“ _What_?” She barked back. “How are you not as angry about this as I am?”

 

Arik sighed and looked away, letting his hands drop to his sides. “Practise.”

 

Fina crossed her arms and watched him as he gripped at his own hair, tugging.

 

“We can’t tell anyone about this.”

 

“I know we can’t.” Fina was almost offended, but kept any trace of it carefully away.

 

Just then, Arngeir burst out of the doors and towards them.

 

They both froze on the spot, staring at him through wide eyes.

 

“Arngeir.” Arik’s voice was timid.

 

The Elder stopped before them and cleared his throat, eyes averted. “I cannot imagine what you must think of me. I must beg for your discretion.”

 

Fina hugged herself against the cold, wondering why exactly she should do anything nice for him.

 

_Because you need his help._

 

“You have it.” Arik replied.

 

Arngeir looked up at him slowly, examining his face in the moonlight.

 

“I regret how things ended between us.”

 

Fina was surprised to hear him admit that, but was also surprised when he glanced at her, and spoke again.

 

“Between all of us.” Arngeir sighed. “Come, let us go inside where it is warm so we can talk.”

 

Fina felt some of her anger dissolve when she saw the look of sincerity on the old man’s face. Perhaps this was the most transparent he had ever been with her - maybe with either of them.

 

He led them into the kitchen, setting the kettle on to boil and then sitting down at the table.

 

Arik and Fina sat across from him. For a few uncomfortable moments, there was complete silence.

 

“I came here when I was a very young boy. Seven, to be exact. That was eighty-four years ago.” Arngeir started. He folded his hands on the table, fingers interlocked and then entirely hidden within the long sleeves of his robes.

 

“But, that would make you…” Fina started.

 

“Ninety-one, yes.”

 

Her mouth snapped shut. _So old?_

 

“Meditation does wonders at preserving one's body.” His eyes smiled, and then he continued. “There were still very many Greybeards during those days. It was common for young boys to take their vows and learn The Way of the Voice. There must have been, oh, thirty or so when I arrived. Ages varying from one-hundred to six years old.”

 

The kettle began to whistle and Arik stood, readying a small clay tea pot and spooning some fragrant tea leaves into it. He set the pot on the table with three cups as Arngeir continued.

 

“I loved it, I truly did. I felt as though I belonged. Like I was doing important work.” He shook his head. “But our numbers began to fade. The Way lost it’s appeal. Less newcomers, and the old began to die. Borri and I were fast friends. He is only a few years younger than I.”

 

Fina watched the look on his face as he said Borri’s name. It made her heart ache. If that was not love in his eyes, she didn’t know the meaning of the word. Arik must have seen it too, for he rested his hand on her leg under the table. She was grateful for it, and shifted subtly closer to him.

 

“We received an orphan once, when I was sixteen years old. He brought a sickness with him, and it nearly wiped us all out. Borri was one who took ill and I thought I had lost him. Truly. I sat by his bed the entire time, and when he was better...well, I had been so afraid.” He swallowed and looked up at them both, a nervous smile flickering across his face. “I am sure you both know of what I speak. There was no going back from that.”

 

“Ever since you were sixteen?” Fina’s mouth fell open. Arngeir nodded, unfolding his hands and pouring them each a cup of tea.

 

“Yes. Ever since then.” He took a sip and then stared down at it, lost in his own thoughts.

 

Arik and Fina glanced at each other.

 

After a few minutes, Arngeir continued. “There were only three Elders left after the sickness was done with us. Three Elders, Borri, Einarth, Wulfgar, Nallor, Safin, and I. The Elders, obviously, have long since passed. Nallor was lost to a troll on the Steps, and Safin one night in his sleep - just like that.” He shrugged. “And the recruits stopped coming, until Arik.”

 

He looked up at him as he said it, and Arik looked back.

 

“And I chased you away.” His eyes were inexplicably sad as he said it. “I had such hope, and when I heard the two of you together.” He shook his head. “My anger consumed me. I will regret my actions that night until the end of my days.”

 

Arik reached out and touched Arngeir’s hand lightly.

 

“Everything happened as it should have.” He said with certainty.

 

Arngeir smiled gratefully, and then turned his attention to Fina. “Well, Dovahkiin - can an old man be forgiven his ignorant pride?”

 

She found herself nodding. “If you can forgive a naive girl her blind, false sense of loyalty.”

 

He chuckled. “I was wrong to doubt you, child.”

 

“We were both wrong.” Fina smiled, and for the first time since arriving, felt at ease.

 

“There is something we need to ask, Elder Arngeir.” Arik spoke up and suddenly Fina remembered their mission.

 

_Of course._

 

“What is it?”

 

“We have a seemingly impossible task to accomplish and need your advice.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Fina sighed. _Where do I even begin?_

 

“We need to somehow lure a dragon to Whiterun so that we can capture it and convince it to take me to Skuldafn so that I can enter Sovngarde to face Alduin.”

 

The more times I say that sentence, the madder it sounds.

 

Arngeir leaned back slightly, watching her. “I see.” He paused.

 

“As far as luring a dragon, all you need do is speak it’s name, or rather, Shout it. Now, this itself is something of a secret that dragons have kept for centuries - I’m sure you can understand why. A dragon’s name, when Shouted, will bring it to you.” He sighed. “The problem with that, is finding the name the name of a dragon that would be willing to help you.”

 

“It is progress.” She replied with some excitement. It was hopeful news, and much more than they had had to go on previously.

 

“Once the talks have concluded, I will take you to speak with Paarthurnax. Perhaps he will be able to offer further advice.”

 

“And he won’t Shout me off of the Throat?”

 

“Not if I am there.”

 

That was hardly comforting, but it was better than nothing. Fina nodded.  “ _Kogaan_ , Arngeir.”

 

“We had best all try and get some sleep.” He said, finishing the rest of his tea. The Elder stood from the table and left, closing the kitchen door behind him.

 

Fina swirled her tea around in her cup, going over what he’d said. He had just given them a font of knowledge.

 

“Tonight was...unexpected.” Arik said softly, leaning his elbows on the table and dropping his head into his hands. Fina rubbed slow circles on his back, watching him.

 

“I can’t believe...Arngeir and Borri…”

 

“I know.”

 

“The whole time you were here, you never suspected?”

 

“ _Neh_.”

 

Fina finished her tea and then stood up, setting away their empty cups and the teapot. She stood behind Arik, massaging his shoulders.

 

“I could do with sharing a bed tonight.” She murmured.

 

He laughed softly, reaching up to touch her hand. “ _Geh_.”

 

“Come on.”

 

Arik stood, and together they headed back to their room, and to separate beds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've actually had these written and posted on fanfiction for quite some time, but completely forgot to update AO3! Sorry lovelies. Also, if you're looking for something else to read, maybe you should check out my other half's new fanfiction? It's called 'Snow and Brimstone' and can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/147180


	25. Evgir Unslaad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really working on this story anymore, but there are several chapters that were published on fanfiction but never on AO3 so I'm just adding those now! It's very unlikely I'll be continuing with the story but if you want to know how it ends you can ask me :) Haha

**F I N A**

* * *

When she awoke in the morning, she could hear foreign voices in the distance, echoing and bouncing down the hall towards her. Immediately, the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she sat up.

Ulfric was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on his boots. He had heard the voices too, for he took pause and glanced towards the door. Esbern was gone, and Arik was still peacefully asleep.

Fina stretched, stiff and tired from her lack of sleep the night before. Her legs and feet were aching, but she imagined she should be used to it by now. She reached over to dig through her pack, and then struggled to pull on her warm fur-lined leggings discreetly under the blankets.

"Uncle?" She said softly.

He looked at her and nodded gruffly, pulling on his final boot and standing up. As was customary at peace talks, he left his sword with his pack. Fina shrugged on her bear's head cape and followed him out into the hall, leaving Arik behind.

In the main hall, she could see a swirl of red - the Imperials had arrived. Ulfric's bulk kept her from seeing much more, and he was planted on the spot, hands balled into fists. He was an immovable wall of muscle and fur.

Fina pushed lightly at his back, trying to get him to move. He was shaking. Well, she hadn't been expecting him to have quite that reaction to seeing Tullius.

Sighing, Fina pushed around him with some force, pausing when she could see who had arrived. She could make out General Tullius, Legate Rikke, and Jarl Elisif. However, there was also a strangely dressed Altmer that Fina didn't recognise.

The Altmer woman wore elegant long robes of gold-trimmed blue, emblazoned with the Imperial emblem. Her expression was fierce and emotionless - even for one of her kind - and she looked remarkably fresh and put together considering the journey she'd just made. Fina frowned.

Arngeir was greeting them, offering to show them to their rooms so they could refresh themselves and take a meal.

"Who is the High Elf, Uncle?" She asked softly.

When he didn't respond, Fina turned her gaze to him. His face was as white as snow, and sweat was dripping down his forehead and cheeks. Ulfric's trembling was nearly visible now, and his eyes were massive and round - so distant and lost that Fina hardly recognised him.

"Uncle?" She touched his arm, but still he didn't look at her.

Just as the Imperial party were following Arngeir to turn down the opposite hall, the Altmer looked at them. When she noticed Ulfric, she raised her hand and gave a small wave, lips turning up in the smallest of smiles. Fina despised the dark look she saw in her eyes.

When they disappeared from sight, Ulfric nearly collapsed. He gasped as if he had just come up for air and clutched at the wall.

"Uncle, what is it?" Fina put one of his arms around her shoulders so she could support him, helping him to sit on the edge of a nearby planter which sprouted feeble looking herbs.

He shook his head, opening his mouth and closing it again several times mutely. Never in her life had Fina seen him like this before. Never. Not after any battle, not after returning from Solitude when he'd challenged Torygg, not even after Darkwater or at Helgen.

_What in the name of Talos…_

"Uncle!" She shook him by the shoulders gently. "Who is that woman?"

"Elenwen." He spoke her name like it was filthy, dropping it before her like a curse.

"I've never heard her name before."

If the haunted, desperate look in his eyes was anything to go by, Ulfric looked as though he may weep. At this moment, he was not a Jarl, he was not a warrior - he was not even her Uncle. He was a young man; a young man who was afraid and had been hurt. That woman, whoever she was, had hurt him.

Fina touched his cheek. "Come."

He nodded, taking a gulp of air.

Fina helped him to his feet and they went to the temple. They sat in one of the pews, and she took his hand, sitting quietly while he stared at the ground.

_This seems to be a room for important conversations._

Finally, he started to speak.

"I have not spoken often of the Great War." The words were soft, and his eyes flickered back and forth, as if he were counting the stones that paved the floor. "But you know that I was captured?"

She nodded, and he continued.

"I was a young man, then. Foolish. Your age, Arik's age, about there. I see myself in you both." Ulfric's eyes flickered up to her and he tucked some hair behind her ear. "I like to think I have had a part in your raising, but truth be told, you are your Father's daughter. He was a better man than I, and you will be a better leader."

Fina opened her mouth to protest, but he waved his hand to cut her off.

"Arik is very like I was. I was a soldier by accident, Fina. It was not the life I wanted. I was meant to be a Greybeard, you know. I started here just to study - not to take the vows, not to stay indefinitely, just to learn and then to leave." Ulfric sighed, raising his eyes to look around the temple. "But this place caught me. The calmness, the quiet. Meditation. Books. Study. I was here for ten years, did I tell you that? I came here so young. I practically grew up here."

She shook her head.  _I had no idea._

"I had just agreed to take my vows, as Arik did, but then the war broke out. Well, with my father having been Jarl...That puts a certain amount of pressure on a young man's shoulders. So I went to war instead. I traded in my books for a sword." A small smile tugged at his lips. "Something I appear to have taken to much more easily than Arik."

Fina wasn't sure whether to laugh and agree, or despair.

"When I was captured, I had information they needed. There was a slew of people responsible for trying to get it out of me, but one who took a...shine...to me." He winced as he said it and his grip tightened on her hand. "There is no point in dancing around it, Fina. Torture is what it was. Hours a day. I still don't truly know how long it was. Galmar seems to think it was several months, although none of us can be sure. It is not something I dwell on."

_Stendarr's mercy…_

"Uncle…"

He swallowed and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"It is the woman. It is her face that is burnt into my nightmares, Fina. I feel a fool, but all my life it is something I am unable to overcome. I have killed hundreds. Seen things no man should. But that is what sticks."

Fina brought his hand to her lips. "I could speak to Arngeir. Surely she has no place here!"

"I have little hope I will be able to talk peace while she sits across the table."

She sighed and let his hand go. "I will see what can be done. Rest here awhile."

Ulfric nodded his thanks and she left him to recover, her own rage boiling within her. To think that anyone had done such things to her Uncle was bad enough, but that the very person who had done them was now here, under the same roof? And she was bound under an agreement of temporary peace not to harm them?

_This will be maddening, I have no doubt._

A hand caught her around the wrist and swung her around. Still in her cloud of anger, she nearly turned and struck them.

Arik ducked before the blow could hit.

"Arik!" Fina gasped. "By the Nine!"

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Who were you expecting?"

She pressed a hand over her racing heart and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Is everything okay?"

"The Imperials have only brought the woman with them who tortured my Uncle during the Great War." She leaned in so she could keep her voice as quiet as possible.

"Truly?"

Fina nodded. "I've never seen him so upset in my entire life."

"What are you going to do?"

"Ask Arngeir if anything can be done."

Arik gave her a look that showed he was as skeptical as she felt.

"I have little hope, too." She sighed, and he pressed a quick kiss to her brow.

"No sign of Mejel or Balgruuf?"

"Not yet. Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

They found Arngeir in the kitchen, preparing some food for the Imperials.

"Ah, good morning." He greeted absently, gesturing for Einarth to dish out bowls of porridge.

"Arngeir, do you know the Altmer woman the Imperials brought with them?"

"She is an advisor to General Tullius I believe, why do you ask?" He hardly glanced up, as he was busy readying some tea.

"The matter is rather sensitive." Fina shifted nervously.

"These things normally are." Arngeir sent Wulfgar and Einarth off with the breakfast and when they were alone in the kitchen, he finally gave Fina and Arik his full attention.

"She was the woman who interrogated my Uncle during his capture in the Great War. For him to see her is rather...Alarming." Fina explained.

The Greybeard sighed and sat down at the table. "I see."

"I've never seen him so unsettled by anything before." She added.

Arngeir shook his head slowly. "During these talks, each party is allowed to bring whichever advisors they see fit." He shrugged. "The Great War has come and gone...I do not mean to seem insensitive, but it is likely that Ulfric has also caused emotional damage to the Imperials, as well. Jarl Elisif, for instance. I can't imagine she is anxious to see Ulfric, either. We cannot make an exception because of something that happened twenty-five years ago."

Arik put his hands on her arms, and she knew he was reminding her to keep her temper in check. She closed her eyes, letting him take over.

"But surely it is also true that it's important for Ulfric to be mentally stable enough to actually attend the talks. Perhaps there could be a compromise. Each side takes in only two representatives. It would be unlikely Tullius would take the Altmer over Legate Rikke." Arik reasoned.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot change the rules now. You can raise the motion when the talk opens, but not before then. Elenwen is at least allowed to arrive at the meeting. Beyond that, you can ask she leave, but the Imperials do not have to oblige."

Fina shook her head. "This puts us at a serious disadvantage."

"There is nothing I can do, I'm afraid."

Arik's hands ran up and down her arms and she clamped her jaw shut, staring at Arngeir and knowing he was right and that there really was nothing he could do. He had to remain neutral. He couldn't pick a side.

_He isn't on our side. He isn't on any side._

"Thank you." Arik spoke for her, and lead her out of the kitchen.

Fina truly wanted to bury her sword in something. Instead, she kicked absently at a pot and sent it falling onto it's side with a satisfying clang.

"I am not eager to break this to him." She groaned, watching as Arik bent to right the pot.

_That might sum up our entire romance._  She thought of the gesture, and then caught herself smiling a little at the comparison.

"You do not have to. I won't give them the satisfaction." Ulfric came out of the hall behind them, and Fina spun to look at him. He adjusted the fur around her shoulders, and she was relieved to see he looked more like himself again - albeit a little shaken.

Arik smiled.

"I take it Fina explained?"

He nodded. "Vaguely."

"If it stayed between the three of us, I would very much appreciate it."

"Of course, Jarl Ulfric."

Ulfric patted him on the back and pushed open the kitchen door. "I'm going to need some sustenance if I'm to be any shade of agreeable this morning." He stepped inside, leaving Arik and Fina alone again.

"Well, then." Fina said quietly.

Arik shrugged, and then turned as the main doors opened. In walked Mejel, closely followed by Jarl Balgruuf and his Housecarl, Irileth.

Forgetting any form of proper decorum, Fina launched herself down the steps, across the floor and straight into her cousin's arms. He dropped his pack and caught her, nearly falling back out the doors.

"Sweet Talos, you've gained weight." He complained, setting her back on her feet. "Or perhaps it is the giant bear you've grown from your back!"

Fina laughed, hitting him on the arm and taking a step back to examine him. He was not wearing any of his Markarth colours, and, in fact, he looked a little as if he'd recently been in battle.

Balgruuf and Irileth stared at them in confusion.

"Well, I never…" She heard the Dunmer mutter as Arik and Arngeir came to join them.

"You look rough, cousin." She told him, taking his pack from the ground and slinging it over her own shoulder. "Have they run out of food in Markarth?"

"Ah...well." His expression turned grim for a moment, but then something caught his eye over her shoulder and he looked up. "Jarl Ulfric." He dropped into a bow.

"Mejel!" Ulfric came down the steps and embraced him as well, but the same concern touched her Uncle's features. "What news? Where is Raerek?"

"We should speak...in private."

Fina ushered them all back towards the temple, allowing Arngeir to settle Balgruuf and Irileth.

Mejel cast a wary eye on Arik, but didn't ask any questions. Fina didn't have time to explain - it wouldn't be long now before they'd be called into the talks.

"For months now there have been rumours of Forsworn activity in Markarth." Mejel started. Arik fetched him some tea and bread from the kitchen, and he accepted it gratefully. "Murders, vandalism, attacks on the roads, that sort of thing."

"Understandable, after the Markarth Incident." Ulfric put in.

Mejel nodded. "They had Madanach - that Forsworn leader - locked up in the Cidhna Mine. But he tunneled out, him and a small army he'd been building. They took us by surprise. Killed most of my men in the night before we'd even known what'd happened." He frowned, pausing. "The other half of my men were in on it. I had no idea."

Fina gasped, and stood from her place beside him, starting to pace.

"The whole of Markarth is run with Forsworn. They were killing men, women, children. Anyone who opposed them. It is completely under their control now. Mother and Father fled with the Silver-Blood family. They got me as far as Whiterun." His voice was bitter. "I thought I knew the city well. I thought I had a grip on it. I could not have been more wrong."

Ulfric cursed under his breath, no doubt realising he had lost what little bargaining power he'd had over Markarth.

They all sat quietly for a moment.

"At least this means that the Imperials will not put up much of a fight for Markarth." She shrugged. "We've pushed the Forsworn out of Markarth once, why not again? They've barely even set down their roots this time."

Her Uncle watched her, and when he spoke his voice was stern. "It is a needless sacrifice of men."

"It's a source of valuable silver, silver that can be used to sway the loyalty of men." Fina retorted.

"Not to mention, Jarl Ulfric, that if we claim the city, you can make Thongvor Jarl. With the Silver-Bloods in power, we gain a lot of support and strength in the Reach." Mejel interjected. "I will lead the takeover, my Jarl. It is my fault that this has happened. I have let you down and I vow that I will make this right again."

Ulfric rested his hand on Mejel's shoulder. "I do not place the blame for this on your shoulders, Mejel. We will do what we can to get Markarth from the Imperials, and then from the Forsworn."

Arngeir arrived in the doorway.

"It is time."

**xxxxx**

The atmosphere in the meeting room was tense, to say the least. When they were seated around the table, Arngeir stood at the head, going over the basic etiquette for the talks.

Everyone was the stay seated, there was to be no shouting, no slander, and no violence. Once everyone had agreed, he took his seat.

"I believe the first order of business should be her presence." Ulfric jabbed a finger across the room at Elenwen. "What is an interrogator from the Great War doing here?"

Elenwen crossed her arms defensively and sneered at him. "Whatever my role in the Great War, I am now an Imperial advisor."

"She is here because I want her here." Tullius said dismissively. "Don't we have more important things to discuss than my choice of company?"

Irileth and Balgruuf exchanged a look and Fina had to prevent herself from glaring at them. The sound of Elenwen's voice set her on edge, and her entire body was rigid with anxious energy. It was all she could do to stop herself from imagining exactly what that woman had done to her Uncle.

"Very well." Ulfric replied tightly, and Fina pressed her hand against his arm, knowing it was taking just about all of his energy not to bolt across the table and throttle the Altmer.

_To be so close to her and have to do nothing…_

"We should discuss Markarth, then." He said instead, looking over to Mejel.

Mejel jumped in, recounting his story of the Forsworn and their takeover of Markarth. General Tullius and Legate Rikke whispered something to each other. Jarl Elisif looked at them as if she were trying to hear, but they carefully left her out of whatever was said.

Before either of the Imperials could comment, Ulfric broke in.

"We would like to trade Dawnstar for Markarth."

Tullius sputtered.

"And here I thought were we attending peace talks!" Rikke laughed sourly, shaking her head. "I should have expected that you were actually calling us here to try and gain land that you failed to claim in fair battle."

The General waved for her to be quiet and eyed up the Jarl. "You expect us to give up the largest silver supply in Skyrim? For _Dawnstar_?"

"Dawnstar has it's advantages. It's mines, it's port. It's generous lack of Forsworn." Ulfric feigned nonchalance, going as far as leaning back casually and examining his nails.

Tullius glared at him and Fina shifted uncomfortably. Her Uncle kept up the act, and after an awkward silence, the Imperials bowed into quiet discussion.

"If we agree, we want one shipment of silver a month from Markarth until the war is won." Tullius sat tall in his chair. Ulfric mirrored his posture, serious again.

"Done."

Fina relaxed, letting out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Arik also seemed to loosen his posture beside her. Esbern, to his left, was furiously scribbling notes. She glanced over at him, wondering what on Nirn it was he could be writing.

"If we're going to be discussing more than peace, perhaps we should also be seeking compensation for our losses at Karthwasten." Rikke crossed her arms, brows risen and daring Ulfric to disagree.

"For  _your_  losses at Karthwasten?" He said in a deadly low voice.

Fina had been at Karthwasten. She could still see the bodies piled, the spilled life dripping from her blade, the dirt and snow stained deep red. Everything as if it were happening in slow motion. Crying, screaming. A battle they had been instructed to fight without mercy.

She suddenly went cold and she clutched her hands into fists. Both sides lost lives, but she knew that the Imperials had been hit the hardest. It had been an ambush - no, a massacre - pure and simple.

"Yes, our losses. It was a training unit, Ulfric!  _Boys_! Not yet soldiers. They hardly stood a chance against your men. Is that how you fight wars now? That is not how we were trained, you and I." Her voice was like a poison arrow in Fina and she dropped her head. She could feel Arik's eyes on her - questioning, concerned.

"And what of Delphine and your use of the Blades? What of that? Were we taught to impersonate ancient organisations in order to do evil?" Her Uncle leaned forward, gesturing wildly across the table at them. "You sought to capture my niece, Rikke! Capture her and torture her, and turn her into a weapon! Not just my niece, but the _Dragonborn_! The last hope of Tamriel against the World Eater! You would keep her from that destiny and instead turn her as a sword against me."

Fina glanced up at him, and then looked across to Rikke. She knew the two had served together during the Great War, but it sounded almost as if there were true hurt in his voice. Surely…

But no, there was only anger on his face, and that same anger was reflected back from Rikke.

"I fail to see how any of that is different from dressing your precious niece up like a figurehead and parading her before us like a doll!"

"Enough!" Tullius cut them off. "What we used Delphine for is infiltration and reconnaissance. We had an alliance. All of which are very common in times of war. Beyond that, I believe you have put an end to her. What is the point in discussing it now?"

"The point is, the information she leaked to you has lead to the ambush of several of my base camps. Should that not make us even for any lives lost at Karthwasten?"

"I hardly think that a couple of routine ambushes will erase a full on massacre of untrained boys." Elenwen interjected in an icy tone.

Ulfric didn't acknowledge her.

"He is quite skilled in the murder of innocents, aren't you, Jarl Ulfric?"

It was Jarl Elisif who spoke, her voice shrill and quivering as it reverberated off the stone walls. All attention turned to her. She sat hugging herself, body twitching and trembling in her seat. Even Ulfric stared at her uncertainly.

"Anything from innocent young boys, training to protect their families, to the Divines-chosen High King of Skyrim. Who knows what's next? Women? Children?" She leaned forward, eyes sparkling in the candle light. Her face was so thin and ghostly. There was something about her that told Fina she had once been beautiful, but any trace of that seemed to have been leached away, sucked from her very skin.

Fina glanced at her Uncle, and his face was a solid mask, but there was a storm in his eyes.

"I am sorry for your grievances, Jarl Elisif, but I defeated your husband in fair combat. Had the ways of old not been forsaken by the blasphemous Empire, you would see I am not the criminal they make me out to be."

"You are nothing but a monster and a murderer, Ulfric Kingkiller. Nothing but a tool for evil and cruelty."

He shook his head. "You have been lead astray and played a fool, Elisif."

Suddenly Elisif stood up, tears rolling down her cheeks as she screamed at him. "It is your fault! All of this! You have done this to us all, Ulfric! All of this death! All of this decay! It is on your shoulders! I would see your head on a stake! I would do it myself!"

"Jarl Elisif, please!" Arngeir spoke for the first time, standing and looking at her imploringly. "Control yourself!"

Her eyes were mad and red as she glared across at him. With one final shriek of frustration and - Fina suspected - sadness, she ran from the room, the slapping of her slippers against the stone echoing down the hall after her.

The rest of them sat in a stunned silence after her outburst. Ulfric moved to rub at his forehead, breath hissing through his nose. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle.

"We are here because we face a mutual threat." Jarl Balgruuf's voice was quiet and gentle. "In order to face it, we need to set our differences aside. At least until that threat has been stopped."

"You believe you can stop him then, do you, little Dragonborn?" Elenwen asked her, and Fina tried not to cringe under her gaze. She resented the blatant condescension in the elf's voice, but bared it.

"If I can capture a dragon in Whiterun." She sat taller, absently pushing at the bear's head above her own.

"And you can do that?" Tullius asked.

In all honesty, Fina still wasn't entirely sure. But she at least needed to appear sure. If not her, who could?

"Yes, of course she can." Esbern broke in impatiently. "Why else would a Dragonborn surface now, at the very moment in time when Alduin rises again? It is her destiny, and you are only getting in her way with your silly war."

They seemed to all consider this, and then turned to discuss it amongst themselves.

"So the terms are as follows," General Tullius spoke. "We give you Markarth, you give us Dawnstar, plus one shipment per month of silver from Markarth until the war is won?"

"Aye." Ulfric nodded.

Elenwen leaned over to whisper something else to Tullius. He nodded to her.

"We would also ask that when the Dragonborn travels to Whiterun, she does so without the accompaniment of a Stormcloak guard, and without boasting the Stormcloak colours. As the old Blade said, it is a common threat we are battling." He cleared his throat. "We ask she goes as a neutral party."

Fina glanced at Ulfric. She had to admit, what Tullius said made sense. If she went wearing Stormcloak blue, it would seem like the Stormcloaks had singlehandedly defeated Alduin. Although this would be a powerful message to all of Skyrim, and likely a very positive one for the Rebellion, it was not one that promoted peace.

"What say you, niece?" He asked softly.

She looked at Arik, who, judging by his expression, shared her thoughts. She nodded.

"I agree. It would make sense for me to go alone and neutral. In the spirit of peace."

"So be it." Ulfric nodded. "We agree to those terms."

"Very well." Arngeir stood up. "Markarth will fall under Stormcloak control, minus the single shipment of silver per month. Dawnstar will be given to the Imperials. Fina will travel to Whiterun as a neutral party."

"Agreed." General Tullius replied.

_So it is done._  Fina sighed. Staying where she was as she watched the Imperials stand from their seats and leave. Legate Rikke paused for a moment, stopping to look back at Ulfric.

"Galmar?" She asked.

"He is well."

Their eyes locked across the room, and Rikke's fingers strayed to a chain around her neck. She nodded once, and then walked out as well.

Esbern blew the ink dry on his parchment and then rolled it shut.

"What were you writing?" Fina asked him, leaning around Arik.

"Arngeir gave me their recipe for cabbage soup earlier, I have taken quite a liking to it." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I was worried I would forget it." The old man pushed himself to his feet and turned to go.

Arik chuckled.

"That went well, didn't it?" Fina asked, looking to her Uncle.

"It didn't go badly." He replied, turning to Mejel. "I have a regiment in the Reach. I will send you to them with orders and we will arrange for…"

"Dovahkiin." Arngeir called her and Fina stood up, walking across to him. "Perhaps it is time we spoke with Paarthurnax."

**xxxxx**

The moment Paarthurnax landed before them, Fina was sure he would swallow her whole. He glared at her through one giant iridescent eye, scaled lips drawn up to show the jagged tips of his fangs.

"Dovahkiin."

"Paarthurnax."

He grunted, blowing hot air from his nostrils. It billowed around her, blowing out her hair and robes in a heavy gust of wind. Fina closed her eyes.

"Fina has seen the error of her ways, Master, and has come to ask for our help."

"Has she indeed?" The old dragon sat back on his haunches, gathering his tattered wings around him.

" _Krosis, indovah_."

A rumble of laughter sounded in his chest. " _Rek dreh unt_. She does try."

"I was blind and mislead. I was wrong."

" _Geh._ " He puffed another breath of warm air onto her face, but this time it was gentle. "Well, _maldovah_. What help do you seek?"

"I am to follow Alduin to Skuldafn, so I may fight him there."

" _Geh_. Such is the prophecy."

"To do that, I must know the name of a dragon who can take me there. And…" She glanced up nervously.

"Go on."

"The Shout, the one you said you would show me if you were sure of my allegiances."

"Dragonrend." Paarthurnax turned his attention to Arngeir, and waved his snout at him. "Go. Leave us."

Arngeir bowed, and turned to walk back down the mountain.

"Come." Paarthurnax pushed up from the ground, gliding towards the word wall and perching on it, his talons digging into the soft stone. Fina rested on a jagged rock below him, waiting.

"What do you intend to do with a dragon's name?"

"I plan to call it to Whiterun and capture it there, so I can convince it to take me to Skuldafn." At this point, Fina knew she had to be entirely honest with him. There was no other option - lying had brought about devastating consequences the last time.

Paarthurnax considered this for a moment, making thoughtful noises. Eventually he seemed to come to a discussion.

"Use the name  _Od-ah-viing_. Odahviing. Snow, hunter, wing. He is close to Alduin, but his fierce sense of honour will be of use to you. He will keep to his word, you can trust that."

"Odahviing." She repeated to herself quietly. "Thank you."

He nodded his giant head. "Now, the Shout. Dragonrend." Paarthurnax hummed deep in his throat.

"It was I who first taught humans to use the  _Thu'um_. During the Dragon War, those who were my students crafted their own Shout, Dragonrend.  _Joor, zah, frul_. Mortal, finite, temporary. To show the dov what it means to be mortal."

He opened his eyes to look at her again, and Fina shivered.

"To you, it may not seem like a great weakness, but to the dov it is terrifying. Dragonrend forces us to land and to remain on the ground, to fight as you do. It would be the only way for you to defeat Alduin."

"Can you teach me, Paarthurnax?"

Paarthurnax hummed again, large eyes still appraising her. Fina stood up and took a few steps towards him, tentatively reaching up to rest her fingers on the hooked claw of his right wing. It was softer than she had expected, warm and she could feel his pulse.

"Will you teach me,  _indovah_?"

The dragon dipped his head, pressing the spines of his forehead against her own. Fina fought her natural instinct to flee, and stood still. He exhaled, and as he did, the familiar whoosh of heat that normally accompanied a dragon soul consumed her, rushing through her body and making her feel weak. She stumbled back a step.

And then she could feel the Shout, unearthed in the depths of her mind. The words were ringing inside of her, like a thousand bells.

_Joor Zah Frul. Joor Zah Frul. Joor Zah Frul._

" _Krif voth ahkrin, Dovahkiin_." The old dragon told her. "Fight bravely."

 


	26. Odahviing

**A R I K**

* * *

He waited for her at the base of the Throat, huddled on the steps as the wind and snow whipped around him in a colourless flurry.

Arngeir had already come and gone, unable to offer any answers beyond the fact the old dragon had not harmed Fina. Still, he had devised a hundred scenarios in his mind as to what could be happening at the top of the mountain and the majority of them ended badly.

When finally he heard the crunch of her boots on the snow, the sun was beginning to set. He turned to her, relieved to see there was a smile on her face.

"Well?"

She reached out and took his hands.

"You're frozen." She replied, lifting his fingers to her lips. " _Yol_."

"Don't waste your energy." He retorted, but as the hot air rushed over them and up into his arms and chest, he was grateful.

Fina smirked, knowing she'd won. "He gave me a name. And the Shout."

Arik felt his body relax. " _The_  Shout?"

" _Geh_. Dragonrend." She replied, pushing at the head of her cape. It seemed to Arik that she hadn't stopped adjusting the heavy thing since she'd gotten it. He reached out and helped her straighten it.

Fina grinned, and the look filled him with contagious elation. It was excellent news, and gave her a far better chance than they could have hoped. He wrapped his arms around her, only to come face to face with the bear.

" _Daar hinksaal kodaav!_ " He grunted, pulling back. She laughed, unclasping the cape and lifting it free, setting it on the steps beside them and then reaching up to throw her arms around his neck.

Fina's nose was cold as she nuzzled against his neck, but the kiss she pressed there was warm enough to make up for it. A fresh eruption of longing broke out throughout his being and his grip on her tightened. She must have felt it too, because she lifted her head to look at him.

Arik cursed his sight, wishing he could take in both of her beautiful eyes at the same time and watch them both as they watched him. She kissed him, and her lips were rough and dry from the wind, but they tasted of Fina and that was enough to clear his thoughts of all his worry, fear and pain.

Just then, the courtyard doors opened behind them. Arik reluctantly let her go and they turned, seeing Ulfric headed towards them.

"What news?" He asked, watching as Fina bent to retrieve her cape. She tucked it over her arm and told him what Paarthurnax had said.

"Excellent!" Ulfric seemed in good spirits again, and slung an arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the doors. Arik fell into step behind them, but Fina stretched out her hand behind her, reaching for him.

He gratefully laced their fingers together and followed them inside.

They found Arngeir and Esbern within, deep into an animated discussion. Once Fina told them the news, the two old men pulled everyone into the kitchen and informed them they had an announcement to make.

"We have decided to join forces in an attempt to breathe new life into both the Greybeards and the Blades." Arngeir explained.

"You...what?" Ulfric voiced all of their thoughts.

Arik felt his mind churn and pressed his back against the wall. What?

"We're going to combine the Way of the Voice with the physical training of the Blades in an attempt to teach peaceful negotiation with the dov, while still being able to defend the people of Skyrim."

Arik gaped at them, shaking his head.

"Not that I disagree," Fina interjected, "But didn't you just dispel Arik for breaking vows that you now - if I understand correctly - intend to completely forsake?"

Arngeir paled a little at that, glancing nervously at Arik, who couldn't return his gaze. He looked down, clenching his hands into fists. He couldn't regret how things had turned out, but the fact that Arngeir was now so ready to accept modern ways into his practise, when a month ago he had been so rigid? It stung him.

"I regret how I handled the situation." Arngeir said with some difficulty. "Recent events have shown me the error of my ways, and I know that things must change in order to preserve the Way and to protect the people of Skyrim and, well, Tamriel for that matter." He sighed and sunk down to one of the benches, folding his hands before him.

Arik could feel the Elder's eyes on him.

Fina crossed her arms. "It does make sense. I am surprised the two of you have agreed to it so quickly."

"We are out of time to seek other alternatives. I am the last Blade in existence, and there are only four remaining Greybeards." Esbern put in. "I will stay here while we work to develop our plan. When the time comes, we will ask Klimmek to help with recruitment. I will also need to send for my books…"

"Sweet Talos." Ulfric muttered. "The books!"

Fina threw her hands up. "I cannot take anymore news today!" She walked past them and out the door, shaking her head.

Ulfric chuckled, engaging the two men in further discussion as Arik hurried to follow her.

He caught up to her in their room, wrapping his arms about her waist from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder. She sighed, leaning her head back against his chest.

"I guess Balgruuf and I are leaving for Whiterun, then."

"Hmm." He grunted, dreading that he would not be going with her.

She turned in his arms so that they were face to face. "Will you wait in Windhelm for me?"

" _Geh._ " He brushed the hair from her face and smiled. " _Zu fen pek_. I will wait. Where else?" Arik kissed her and her arms tightened.

"Tell me I can do this."

He tilted her chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. " _Hi fen imzik mok bolog fah aaz, Dovahkiin._  You will make him beg for mercy."

Fina shivered at his words, but seemed to calm some. "I love you."

"And I love you." He whispered back, brushing his lips across hers again.

"Fina!" Ulfric was calling. "Jarl Balgruuf is leaving."

She groaned, but neither of them let go, not until they heard steps outside the door. Fina moved to collect her things as Ulfric entered, and after a quick squeeze of her hand, Arik left them.

**F I N A**

* * *

"Balgruuf is a good man, but keep your wits about you. Fight well. You were born for this. You will make us all proud."

Fina turned to look at him, wishing she could have disappeared in the night and avoided saying goodbyes. Ulfric was guarded, and she could tell he was holding himself back. She settled the bear's head in his arms and snapped into attention.

"I will serve Skyrim and the true Nords, my Jarl!"

Ulfric smiled fondly and set the furs aside, drawing her into his arms. His grip on her was so restrictive that her arms were locked to her sides and she could not breathe.

"I will see you soon, niece."

"Soon." She promised. "Tell Jarl Balgruuf I won't be long. I just need to change."

Ulfric nodded and let her go, leaving the room before either of them could say another word.

Arik came back in quietly and sat on the bed, watching as she packed her things and then stripped out of the heavy fur of her officers uniform. She turned to him when she was in nothing but her small clothes, brushing back the dark hair from his face and fixing the strap of his eyepatch.

 _He is too young and too beautiful to have had this happen._  She thought, touching gently at the slightly puckered ridge of his scar. The last they had checked his eye, the swelling had gone down, but the ball itself was still milky and it's honey colour missing, as if it had been erased.

Arik ran his hands down her sides to the top of her thighs, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to the centre of her stomach. Fina hugged him, feeling his breath and tears hot against her bare skin. They stayed like that for some time, until the cold air had stolen the warmth from her body and she began to shiver. She disentangled herself from him and he hastily wiped at his eye and cheek.

Fina bent and kissed him, and then quickly changed into some civilian clothing. When she turned back, he offered her an embarrassed smile.

"Everything will be fine, Arik."

"I know, I just told you that."

She laughed, and shouldered her pack, reaching out for him. He took her hand, and together they headed for the main hall.

It wasn't until Fina had said the rest of her goodbyes and was outside with Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth that they informed her Elenwen would be traveling with them to Whiterun.

The elf was waiting, wearing the same sharply tailored robes and the practised look to match.

Fina's immediate reaction was disgust. She stopped on the spot, hand immediately flying to the hilt of her sword.

"This was  _not_  part of the arrangement."

"It was not excluded from the arrangement, either." Elenwen replied, shrugging her shoulders elegantly. She stood a good head taller than Fina and she was forced to look up in order to glare at her.

"I should have expected no less from your kind, I suppose." Fina snarled, taking a step closer.

Irileth drew her sword, taking a step towards them. An instant later, so did Fina.

"Dragonborn, please!" Jarl Balgruuf said desperately, pushing himself between them. "We have only just agreed to peace. Elenwen is simply on her way to Riverwood on business and asked if she could travel that direction with our party and observe the capture of the dragon."

_He is right._

Begrudgingly, Fina sheathed her sword and took several steps back. "Stay away from me." She barked at the Altmer who bowed her head.

"As you wish, Dragonborn."

Balgruuf gave Irileth a look and she sheathed her blade as well.

"I will follow behind." Fina said decidedly, hanging back until the others had passed her. Irileth took the lead and Balgruuf and Elenwen walked side by side in the middle.

Gritting her teeth, Fina followed.

When they arrived in Ivarstead, she stocked up on stamina potions.

_There is no way I am going to sleep with that elf bitch around._

Balgruuf insisted that they hire a carriage for the remainder of their journey, which meant she was left to sit and glare at Elenwen. Which she did. For hours. Relentlessly.

If it bothered the Altmer, she didn't show it - much to Fina's disappointment. She would have loved to see her squirm.

They were a half day away from Whiterun when she could feel the distinct pull of a Word Wall.

"We have to stop." She said, standing up in the carriage and almost falling out the back when they jolted to a standstill.

"What is it?" Balgruuf asked.

"A Word Wall."

"What is that?"

"I don't have time to explain, but it very likely means a dragon." She dropped from the back, grabbing her bow. "Pull the carriage over to the side, in the shelter of those trees. Stay there."

Fina started walking in the direction of the pull, feeling the faint tug of the ancient chanting voices in the back of her mind. She stopped and glanced back.

"Irileth?"

"I'm with you." The Dunmer confirmed, drawing her sword and following in a crouch.

She nodded her thanks, and took off at a low run.

Before long, the curved wall of stone emerged in a clearing. Perched above, was a dragon. She stopped short, dropping low to the ground and threw up her hand, motioning for Irileth to stop beside her.

Without a bow, the Dunmer was fairly useless against a dragon.

_But that was before I had Dragonrend…_

"I will use a Shout that keeps the dragon locked to the ground. Sneak around to a position you can reach it's side without it being able to get ahold of you. I'll keep it distracted." She whispered, and Irileth nodded.

Fina readied her bow, and moved so she faced the dragon head on. She shot straight for it's head, hitting it in the nose. As soon as the beast looked at her, she stood to her full height and braced herself.

" _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_ " A burst of blue light erupted from her and covered the beast entirely in a glowing shroud.

The dragon tried to flap it's wings, but they wouldn't move. With a cry of absolute terror - something completely foreign and bone-chilling coming from a dragon - it dropped from it's perch on the wall and was forced to the ground as if something heavy held it in place.

Something about this situation made Fina feel sick with guilt, but she couldn't stop now; she had to follow through. She swallowed hard and knocked another arrow into place, shooting several of them at the dragon's head.

Irileth made her move, sneaking along the side of the dragon's body, ducking it's tail and moving up along his sensitive underbelly.

The dragon tossed it's head, keeping Fina's arrows from hitting anything too vital. It gave another cry of fear, but it was quickly developing into angry frustration. It was then that it turned on her, aiming a blast of icy air in her direction. Fina barely managed to dive out of the way.

Taking this as her opportunity, Irileth hefted her sword and drove it into the creature's side, twisting the blade and dragging it along as far as she could manage. The dragon keened, thrashing madly against the blue force that still kept it restrained.

Irileth withdrew her sword and stabbed a second time and then a third. The dragon fell still, collapsing. The Dunmer withdrew her sword and fell to her knees heaving. Fina stared at the dragon, feeling nothing but despair and grief.

It was still alive, but only barely. It turned it's eyes on her, massive orbs of copper that stingingly reminded her of Arik's.

" _Vahr, Briinahi? Vahr?_ " His chest hissed and rumbled as he struggled to get the words out. Fina - against her better judgement - dropped her bow and went to him, kneeling by his head and lifting it into her lap. " _Vahr?_ " He asked her again.

" _Krosis, Zeymahi. Zu'u dreh ni mindok aanvorey strah_." She whispered, as he died. "I do not know another way."

His soul flowed into her and she trembled, wondering at how she had felt so thirsty for dragon blood to begin with, but now she was beginning to dread each time she had to fight them. She could feel them all within, trembling along with her as another fallen _zeymah_  joined them.

"Dragonborn?" It was Irileth, covered in the black of dragon blood, wiping her sword clean in the grass.

"Just a moment." The head she held was nothing more than bone now, and so she settled it aside and retrieved her bow. "Wait here."

Fina walked to the Wall and placed her hand upon the word. As the voices entered her mind to teach her, she squeezed her eyes shut and let them take over.

 _Tiid klo ul._   _Time, sand, eternity._

" _Tiid klo ul_." She whispered to herself, returning to Irileth.

"Let's go." She said, returning her bow to it's place on her back.

"Dragonborn, what did the beast say? Var? Vair?"

Fina glanced at her, her expression tight. "It asked me 'why'.  _Vahr_. Why."

Irileth didn't respond.

When they reached Whiterun, Fina insisted that they didn't waste any time and that she call the dragon immediately. .

"Shouldn't you take time to rest?" Balgruuf asked, allowing his servants to remove his travel cloak and pack and bring him some hot spiced wine and food.

"The sooner I do this, the sooner we can ensure the people of Tamriel are safe."

"As you wish, Dragonborn." He shook his head, and paused to sit on his throne and change his boots.

Elenwen was hovering annoyingly close and Fina shot her a look, stalking past and jarring her out of the way with her shoulder. They followed her up the stairs, with the Jarl barking orders to his men to prepare the dragon trap.

Upstairs, Fina dug in her pack and downed another stamina potion.

"How long can you keep up your tough soldier act on potions alone?" Elenwen asked, her accent smooth and alarmingly close to Fina's ear.

She jumped, turning so quickly her head swam.

"Long enough." She snapped, thrusting the empty bottle into the Altmer's hands. "How long can you keep your hair looking so perfect and shiny?"

Elenwen laughed and the noise was razor sharp.

Fina cursed herself, knowing her comment was petty and only further emphasized the fact she was running on stamina alone. Not waiting for an answer, she followed Irileth and Balgruuf out back.

When they had the trap sprung, she had everyone climb the steps and ready themselves at the sides, in case something should go awry.

Standing at the mouth of the balcony, she Shouted.

" _ODAHVIING!_ " And waited.

She didn't imagine the dragon would be close, so she wasn't sure how long it would take. Fina stood still and scanned the skies. No movement on the horizon. No dragon screeching in reply. No feeling at all. Silence. Stillness.

There was a rustling of robes behind her, and she could hear someone hurrying down the steps.

 _How long is this meant to take?_  She sighed, hands on her hips. The footsteps were growing closer behind her, but she didn't pay them any mind.

_This has to work. It has to._

Something on the horizon caught her eye, a moving shape. She squinted…

_Just a bird._

Someone grabbed her arm like a vice and spun her around.

 _Elenwen._  She freed her arm with a growl.

" _What?_ " She snapped.

"What name did you call?"

"Odahviing." Fina's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

Just then, it felt like something hit her hard in the stomach. She reached out, bracing herself on the stone railing of the balcony. Her mind was taken over, just as it had been when Paarthurnax showed her the vision of the Blades and when they sent Alduin forward in time.

She could see a vast cavern of stone, illuminated from by rays of light, strained through a metal grate over the hole above. Blood and water pooled in the bottom, thick and foul and putrid. A dragon was hunched in one corner, limbs bound in chains, stakes through the quivering, bruised membrane of it's wings pinning him to the ground. There was a heavy metal contraption around it's mouth, keeping it's jaw locked shut. It was alone and shaking, emaciated, afraid.

Immediately she knew it.

_Odahviing?_

His eyes flickered.  _Dovahkiin?_

_Geh. Is this real?_

_You have called, but I cannot come._

He was shivering, clearly in pain. There were cuts along his legs and underbelly. He had been tortured.

Where are you? Who has done this?

 _Alduin learned of my intended betrayal. I do not agree with his plans. He has convinced the_  joor _, the mortals, that he will work with them in the_ kein _, the war. In return, they are to capture you for him._

Joor _? The Imperials?_

Geh. _The one who keeps me, the_  fahliil _, the elf. She will take you._

_Elenwen._

Geh, geh _._  The vision was beginning to slip, and Fina could see both the cavern and the balcony she stood on, could see Elenwen advancing on her, but she needed more information. She couldn't let it go, not yet.

_Where do they have you, Odahviing?_

_I do not know. Near their capital. Free me, Dovahkiin, and I will stand at your side until the end of days._

Hi lost dii rot.  _You have my word,_  Zeymahi.

Kogaan, Briinahi.

The vision diminished to nothingness and Fina gasped, sucking in air as Elenwen was upon her, grasping her by the shoulders.

"What happened?" The Altmer said, and Fina saw her cool exterior drop for the first time. Rage flared inside of her, and she let it explode, winding up, Fina raised her fist and punched the elf square in the jaw, sending her staggering back.

She heard Balgruuf and Irileth react above her, and Elenwen readied her fists with magic. Just as the sparks were flying towards her, Fina steadied herself and Shouted.

" _TIID KLO UL!_ " The sparks stopped in their tracks, and Fina easily stepped out of the way. She gathered her things and hurried past everyone, out the doors and through the main hall. Evidently the Shout had affected all of Dragonsreach, because time didn't return to normal until she was heading down the steps and back towards the marketplace.

_So much for peace._

**S Y R A**

* * *

When she could not take one day more of Cicero constantly being at her elbow and breathing down her neck, Syra found an excuse to visit Whiterun. That excuse, of course, was a contract.

Her true reason, was her promise to Ljorn that she would check on him...not to mention the guilt she still harboured that he had nearly died because of her own personal affairs.

She arrived in the night, and finished her work with a habitual efficiency. When she finished, she meant to sneak to Jorrvaskr and try to catch him outside alone - but then thought better of it. She sincerely doubted that after what happened he would be outside or alone at night very often. She also doubted he would be pleased to see anyone wearing Dark Brotherhood attire, even if it was her.

So instead, she stole a simple blue linen dress from a clothesline and spent the night tucked up in the high branches of a tree. When the sun rose, she hastily changed into the dress and stowed her shroud behind a rock.

Shadowmere stood patiently by the tree and she passed him an apple from the saddlebag. "Wait here for me."

The dress fit her well, but having the skirts felt strange and unnecessary. They tangled around her legs when she walked and were quite cumbersome. If anything went wrong, it would take her a long time to get away. She strapped a dagger to her thigh.

The neckline of the dress was lower than she was used to, but she let her hair fall loose down her front which helped to cover it some. The whole outfit, paired with her lack of cowl and mask made her feel like she was naked.

 _It will have to do. I must be entirely insane for this._  She told herself as she made her way through the market, sure everyone was secretly staring at her, even if they seemed to just be going about their business as usual.

She headed up the steps to Jorrvaskr, hoisting the skirts just a little too high, and showing just a little too much of her boots to be polite for a lady. Not that she was bothered much.

 _How do women wear these? How did_ I _ever wear these?_

Taking a deep breath, Syra pushed open the door. Several of the Companions were mulling around the table, shoving at the food and already starting at the mead and ale. Only one of them - a striking woman with bright auburn hair - looked up at her.

"Can I help you?" She asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

Fighting to keep the defensiveness out of her voice, Syra took a few steps towards the table. "I was looking for Ljorn."

_You're the orphan, Syra. The little girl. Naive little Syra with the bright eyes and easy smile._

"He's an old friend. From the orphanage." She added, putting on her best smile for good measure.

Aela nodded, but still seemed a little skeptical. Understandably so - they must all be a little more protective of him since the incident.

"He is just out back, polishing armour." She tossed her head in the direction of the doors behind her.

"Thank you." Syra dipped her head and then crossed in the direction the woman indicated.

Outside, she took a deep breath, wondering at how putting on a dress and going to visit a friend could make her more nervous than completing an assassination.

Ljorn looked up as she came out, eyes lighting on her. There was no recognition in his expression as he looked her up and down.

"Hello…?" He said, putting aside the heavy steel boot he'd been rubbing away at with a polishing rag.

Syra hugged herself, wondering if this had been a good idea. She took a couple of hesitant steps toward him.

"You don't recognise your future bride, then?" Her voice shook a little.

"Syra?" His big brown eyes widened as he took her in. "Don't tell me you've le-"

She shook her head before he could get his hopes up. "Just a disguise." She gestured to the dress and came to sit on the wooden bench beside him.

"Oh."

"How are you?" Syra asked, looking him over. He looked thinner than the last time she'd seen him, but his face was bright with colour and it was good to see he was out and doing things.

"Ah, it would take more than three arrows to get me. Maybe five or six and there would have been a problem." He shrugged nonchalantly and Syra was caught between being grateful for his lightness and wanting to shake him into giving her a serious answer.

She smiled a little at his words. "Right, of course."

"How about you? How is the killing business?"

Syra tensed at his words. Ljorn had never spoken harshly to her about her line of work before, although she'd known he wasn't happy about it. She looked away, more hurt than she'd care to admit.

_This was a mistake. I should have kept away and let him be angry at me._

Ljorn wiped his hands clean on the rag and set it aside. He sighed and reached out, brushing some of the golden hair from her shoulder and over her back, so that her face was exposed to him.

"You're getting ready to run." He said decidedly. "You didn't like what I said and you're thinking you shouldn't have come here, so you're trying to figure out the best escape route. Tell me I'm wrong."

She looked at him, angry. Angry because he was right, angry because even after everything that had happened he could still see through everything she did. Furious.

"So go." He shrugged. "I'm alive, you've seen that. I polish boots now, because I can't fight." Ljorn gestured to the boot. "I sharpen swords. Sometimes they even let me go to the market and buy things for them." He laughed bitterly.

_What have I done?_

Syra plucked at her skirts, not knowing how to respond. Ljorn reached behind him to grab a flagon of - from the smell - ale. He took a swig of it and then set it aside again.

"Well, - "

"I met the Dragonborn." The words seemed to come out on their own. "And I saw Arik. He couldn't keep his vows, I guess, because he fell in love with her - the Dragonborn, Fina - and the Greybeards kicked him out. I saw them in Ivarstead. I had to warn them, because someone was going to betray them." As she spoke, Syra picked up the boot and the polishing cloth, taking over where Ljorn had left off.

"Arik didn't know it was me, of course. It was so strange to see him, all grown." She caught her reflection in the face of the boot and frowned, pausing for a moment, and seeing how much older and sadder she looked. "When I returned to our hideout, it turns out our leader, Astrid, had betrayed us to the Imperials. It was her lover who tried to kill you. They ransacked the place and killed all but four of us."

Ljorn had grown still beside her and she glanced at him, seeing the look of shock mixed with worry on his face. She set down the polished boot and picked up it's mate, starting to work on it instead.

"But that wasn't the worst of it. Not ten minutes after I returned to find most of my friends dead, I learned that the person who betrayed Fina was heading to the Imperials with information that could benefit them in the war." She paused, catching her breath. "After what the Imperials had just done to us, I couldn't let that happen. I left immediately, and caught up with them just outside of Solitude." She was polishing the same section of the boot so furiously now that Ljorn had to stop her hands and take the boot and cloth away. He set them down and took her shaking hands in his own.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I was half mad. They would have killed me, if my horse hadn't trampled them first. Fina found me half dead, thank Sith-" She swallowed. "Thank the Divines."

 _Sithis will not thank you for that!_  The Night Mother put in haughtily. Syra ignored her.

"I woke up in Windhelm, and Arik was there." She glanced at him, seeing some of his rigidness had disappeared.

"Arik and the Dragonborn?"

"Yes."

"And they're  _in love_?"

Syra nodded.

"They fought while I was there, but even then...Yes, very much so." She nodded. "To a nearly disgusting degree."

Ljorn laughed gently and then sighed. "I'm still angry at you."

"Good."

"But, I am glad you're okay. I was worried about you."

Syra met his eyes now, tentatively lifting a hand and pulling down the collar of his tunic so she could see the scar on his shoulder where the arrow had hit.

"I'm fine, Syra. Really. Danica said I'll be back to swordplay in a few weeks." He tugged her hand from his chest up around his neck so he could hug her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and Syra let him, but only for a moment before she pulled back again.

"They all think I've got some kind of secret lover now, you know." He said, playfully hitting her shoulder.

" _What_?" Syra could feel heat rise in her cheeks.

"Ah, did you think I wouldn't remember you kissing me?"

Just then, they heard the echo of a Shout burst across the air.

" _ODAHVIING!_ "

"What was that?" Ljorn asked, standing up to look.

_Fina?_

Syra turned towards Dragonsreach. "That had to have been Fina. What is she doing here?"

_Night Mother?_

_I have had my full attentions on the Brotherhood, little one. I could not spare time to the Dragonborn._

Syra groaned. "I should see what's going on."

"I'll come with you." Ljorn picked up a nearby sword and attached the belt around his waist.

"Your wounds, Ljorn." Syra said sternly.

"Shut up, assassin." He said, poking her side.

She smacked his hand away, hurrying around the outside of the building and down the front steps, towards the market. As she got there, she heard another Shout.

"That  _has_  to be her." The skirt around her was more than annoying and she hiked it up, drawing the dagger from her thigh and using it to slice the skirt up the sides so she had more freedom to move.

"Have you no sense of propriety!" An old woman barked at her as she passed. Syra paid her no mind.

"You were meant for me, woman." Ljorn declared and she shot him a glowering look, moving through the crowd and towards the palace.

She could see Fina now, hurrying down the steps like she had the Void at her back.

"Fina!" She cried, reaching out and grabbing her by the arm. The Dragonborn looked weather-worn and had the tell-tale dark circles under her eyes that suggested she was running on stamina potions.

"Syra?" She drew up short, looking flustered.

"What's going on? Where is Arik?"

"Arik? Headed to Windhelm. Safe." Fina looked over her shoulder. "I need to get out of here. Now. I need to get to Darkwater River as soon as possible."

"My horse." Syra replied. "Ride with me. We'll take Shadowmere."

"You are sent from the Divines, my girl." Fina kissed her cheeks and then let Syra lead her by the hand through the market and towards the back wall of the city.

"Where are we going?"

"Trust me." Syra replied, watching to make sure Ljorn was keeping up. As they reached the wall, she stopped. "Shadowmere is on the other side. Let me help you over." She got on one knee and cradled her hands. Fina used it as a foot hold and Syra boosted her up the wall.

Once she was over, Ljorn got down to help her do the same. Seeing him like that, on one knee as he had done so many times during his fake proposals, as he'd carefully planned them, and staged them so many times during their childhood was nearly enough to bring her to tears.

"Here we are again, my love." He said, knowing very well what she was thinking. His tone was joking, but his eyes were serious.

Syra shook her head, covering her mouth. She bent before him and, damning it all, pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Ljorn, one day, when all of this is behind me...If you would still have the monster I've become, I would want for nothing more than to be your wife. I swear by the Divines - nothing would bring me more joy."

And with those fierce words, she propelled herself over the wall without his help.

Once Syra dropped down beside Fina, the two of them ran along the wall until they came to a tree. Shadowmere stood waiting, free of any restraint.

"Quite a horse." Fina said, patting him gently while his master changed back into her Brotherhood attire.

"And fast enough we'll likely arrive before Arik." Syra replied, swinging herself up into the saddle. She offered a hand down to Fina, who climbed up behind her.

Shadowmere's ears pricked, and Syra leaned down, stroking his neck and nudging him into action with her heels.

"Let's go."

 


	27. Hired Blades

**A R I K**

* * *

"What are your plans, my boy?" Esbern asked, watching as Arik stuffed his few belongings into the pack waiting on his bed.

He and Ulfric were readying themselves to leave High Hrothgar, only a few hours after Fina had departed. The rest of the Imperials would be leaving the following day, and the Jarl - understandably - was eager to get a head start.

"Plans?" He turned to look at the old Blade, pausing his movements.

"Yes, of course. You're no longer a Greybeard and a mind as sharp as yours would be wasted in Windhelm."

_He clearly already has something in mind._

"What are you suggesting?" He suspected that Esbern was trying to recruit him into this crazy plan he and Arngeir had hatched. The idea immediately made him defensive and he crossed his arms. There was no chance he was going to stay around here.

"Not what you think. I wouldn't ask that...although we would be grateful for your help." Before Arik could object, he waved his hand, hurrying on. "No, what I was going to suggest was the college."

"In Winterhold?" He relaxed a little.

"The very same. Recent events seem to suggest that perhaps you are less inclined to combat and more inclined to restoration and defense. Having such abilities could have prevented incidents like what you faced in that tomb."

Arik sat on the edge of the bed, considering. He had always been so focused on becoming a Greybeard, and then, more recently, Fina and the dragons. He hadn't given much thought to what he personally would like to do next.

_When Fina defeats Alduin, what will I do? I cannot fight. I am not a leader. I have no other skills beyond reading books and meditating._

It  _did_  sound appealing to him. He knew the peace would not last. Fina would need to go to war, and he would need to busy himself as to not go mad with worry.

"I see the wheels turning." Esbern commented.

"What?"

"You're deep in thought."

"It is an interesting option." Arik admitted, standing to continue packing.

"The bookkeeper there, an Orsimer - Urag gro-Shub - is an old friend of mine. I will write to him for you."

"Thank you." Arik replied, throwing his pack over his shoulder. He crossed to shake Esbern's hand and the old man smiled warmly at him.

With his mind working to spin out new possibilities, Arik went to join Ulfric in the main hall.

**LJORN**

* * *

He stood from the dirt, raising his fingers to poke at his lips where they still buzzed from Syra's kiss.

"I could strangle her and give her my heart in the same instant." He muttered, kicking angrily at a clump of grass near his toe.

But for all that, her admission had shocked him. There was no mistaking the ferocity of her words - she had been serious. What had she meant, though, 'when all of this is over'? Her work with the Brotherhood? Would it  _ever_  be over?

He made his way back to Jorrvaskr, heart pounding in his chest. He threw open the doors with an angry force and they swung back against the wall with a sharp  _bang_. Aela looked up at him in surprise.

"You were out back - ?"

"I was." He agreed, flinging himself into a chair beside Ria and stealing her mug of ale, which he downed in one go. She made a disgruntled noise and tried to take it back, but he pushed her hand away.

"Who was the girl?" Farkas asked, shoving an entire bread roll into his mouth and chewing noisily.

"My future wife."

They all stared at him, open-mouthed, and then burst into raucous laughter. Only Ria, even though she laughed, seemed to have the slightest shine of concern in her eyes.

**F I N A**

* * *

They rode relentlessly for the fork where the Darkwater and White rivers collided. By her reckoning, they would reach it before her Uncle's party, but only by half a day.

Shadowmere was a wonder to behold, a flash of shadow across the plains. Soundless and faster than anything she'd ever seen - save perhaps a dragon.

When they reached the point, Syra pulled up and they both dismounted, taking deep draughts of water from the clear, ice cold river before speaking.

"Why the hasty departure?" Syra asked finally, settling on a rock and tugging back her hood. Beautiful sunny curls spilled free, reminding Fina again that she was still only a girl.

_Fifteen and she's likely killed more men than I had at that age._

"The short version? We were trying to capture a dragon...But it was a set up, and the Imperials meant to kidnap me."

"Again?"

"Again." Fina huffed, flopping onto the grass and staring up at the sky. After a while of silence, she propped herself up on her elbows. "How have you been, Syra?"

She shrugged. "Well enough, considering. There aren't many of us left. We're rebuilding."

"I didn't ask about the Brotherhood. I asked about  _you_."

Syra flushed, shifting so her hair covered her face. She stared into the flowing waters beside her, fingers digging into the sharp points of the rock she perched on. Fina guessed she wasn't used to being asked much about her personal well-being.

"I'm fine. Mending. Working."

"Who was the boy?"

"A friend from the orphanage. Ljorn."

"The one they tried to kill?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad he's well."

Syra nodded, and then sprung to her feet, flexing. "I should go. I need to get back to the hideout."

"You won't stay and see Arik?" Fina pushed herself up from the grass.

"We both know it's better if I don't."

Fina nodded grimly. "Thank you, Syra."

"I owe you my life." She replied, letting Fina kiss her cheek.

"This makes us even." The Dragonborn protested, shaking her head.

Without another word, the assassin mounted Shadowmere and took off to the west.

Fina slouched back down, huddling against the rock. She didn't have many supplies, and no bedroll. She pulled out another stamina potion and sipped at it. It was bitter, but she was used to it by now and it's foulness would keep her alert.

_What will they think when they see me?_

**xxxxx**

The party arrived a full day later than she had expected.

As they rode up, Fina stood and waved her arms. Ulfric was the first to dismount and hurry over to her. His immediate glee ripped at her heart.

"Shor's bones! I did not expect it to be over that quickly!"

"It isn't." Fina replied grimly.

"What's happened?"

Arik dismounted and came to stand with them, and it was all she could do not to launch herself at him.

"Outside High Hrothgar, you can imagine my surprise to find out Elenwen would be escorting us to Whiterun." She began bitterly.

Ulfric's happiness immediately fell away, leaving him pale.

"When we arrived at Whiterun, I didn't want to waste any time and called for Odahviing immediately. Nothing happened. When Elenwen heard the name I used, she grabbed me. That's when I saw a vision."

"A vision?"

"Just like the one Paarthurnax showed me of the Blades." She confirmed. "It was Odahviing. They have him trapped, somewhere near Solitude. The Imperials think they are working with Alduin and Odahviing sought to betray him. They are torturing him. Elenwen came to Whiterun with the intention to kidnap me. Odahviing warned me and told me if I free him, he will help me defeat Alduin."

Ulfric began to swear in violent colours, turning away and storming up and down the river bank. The soldiers shifted on their horses, watching their Jarl uncertainly as he seemed to have completely lost himself.

Fina eyed him, feeling her own anger bristle, renewed. Even Arik looked furious. He came to her side, looking her over as if checking for injury.

"I'm alright." She told him, squeezing his hand.

"How did you get here?"

"Our little assassin."

"Syra?"

She nodded. "She happened to be in Whiterun, thank Talos."

Arik looked a little pained, but she knew he would understand why Syra was already gone.

"This is it." Ulfric said, returning to them. "No more of this. I will not stand idly by and allow them to keep devising these monstrous plans! It is time to act. It is time to fight. They have pushed too far!" He swung himself back up on top of his horse.

Fina felt a strange mixture of dread and excitement. The soldier in her longed for the battlefield, the blood of her enemies bathed on her blade - to make the Imperials pay for what they had done...but she knew it would come at a grave price.

When she looked at Arik, all she saw was fear.

**xxxxx**

When they arrived in Windhelm, there was a blizzard on their tail.

The city was already boarded up, windows and doors covered against the raging gusts. Winter was well and truly upon them.

Ulfric immediately set to work on plans but gave Fina leave to rest, as she was mentally useless to him in her current state. She didn't argue with him on that point.

In her room, Arik's arms were immediately around her and she found herself quickly free of clothing, back pressed into the furs and blankets covering her bed.

"Sweet Talos, its been too long." She murmured between kisses, winding her hands into his hair and tugging him down on top of her.

He hummed his agreement, hovering over her for a moment until he could push his trousers down and kick them off the end of the bed.

"I punched Elenwen." She remembered aloud, chuckling, feeling his hands snake up her sides, drawing goosebumps in their path.

"You  _what_?" He had been nipping and sucking at her breasts, and the sensitive points were swollen and throbbing at his touch. He looked up at her.

"Mhmm." Fina grinned wickedly.

"I'm surprised you didn't stab her." He replied with a smile smile, returning his attention to her skin.

_Why didn't I?_

She moaned as his tongue flicked over her nipple, back arching into him. Her tired body was coming instantly to life at his touch, as if remembering what it was like to  _feel_  and not just be a numb, ever-moving lump.

"So am I." She cupped his face, pulling him up for another long kiss, and locking her legs around his waist. He braced himself on either side of her head and without delay, guided himself within her in a single movement, eliciting cries from both of them.

Fina clawed down his back, pulling him closer to her. She could feel the scratch of his stubble on her shoulder with each shift he made, and heard the slapping of skin against skin. Raw, pure, and filled with their basic animalistic need for each other. She rose her hips to meet him, deepening the thrust, and her name rang from his lips.

Everywhere his body touched hers was hyper-sensitive, and she could feel the tell-tale thrill that warned her she was close to release. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her body clenching around him in anticipation.

"Oh, Divines, Arik. I am so close."

"You are?"

He had never gotten her there before on his own, and the genuine shock in his voice made her laugh.

"Yes!" She gasped, clutching to him more tightly, urging him on.

All at once, she felt it arrive and buried her head in his shoulder, limbs trembling and buzzing. As she came, so did he and they collapsed together, letting the silence echo between them.

Her body was pounding in time with her heartbeat and she felt weak, so much so she didn't even dare open her eyes. Her loins were tender, warm, and singing blissfully.

Arik made to move, but she kept him in place with her arms and legs locked around him. No one had ever brought her to release before - no one but herself and that realisation was filling her with far more emotion than she'd thought it would. Something told her it had been brought on by far more than physicality alone.

"Fina?"

"No."

"No?"

She shook her head. Arik chuckled and remained still for a moment, pressing light kisses across her head and neck.

Eventually, though, he forced himself up, breaking the armlock she had around him and carefully sliding free of her legs. He looked down at her, angling his head so he could take all of her in with his good eye.

"Am I crying?" She asked stupidly.

"A little." He said, sweeping the sweat-matted hair from her forehead. Arik rolled to the side and took her in his arms, pulling the furs up around them.

She hid her face in her hands.

"Was it  _bad_?"

"No, it was wonderful." She peeked at him. "That's never happened before."

"Never?"

"Not from that."

Arik looked at her incredulously. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're a quick learner."

"Not in all things." He gestured to his eye.

Fina gave him a look. "You know as well as I that it was not your fault." She reached out and removed the eyepatch from his face. He looked a bit uneasy with his face being bare, but let her do it anyway. She leaned in and touched her lips to his scar.

They watched each other quietly, content.

"I have to go to war."

"I know."

Arik wiped at her still-wet cheeks and she nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent.

"While you're gone…"

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm going to go to the College of Winterhold."

"Truly?" She looked up at him, seeing a hesitant hope in his eyes.

"Esbern suggested it. It would keep my mind busy."

Fina nodded, trailing her fingers down his bare back. She was silent for a moment, considering.

"I was thinking perhaps restoration. Maybe a little destruction, conjuration. But mostly defensive magic."

"You have the heart of a healer." She agreed, enjoying the happiness the topic was bringing to his features. Although magic was not something she had always been the most fond of, it did seem like something he would be well suited to. "It would be good for you. Of course you have my support. I'd daresay Uncle's, too."

Arik kissed her brow and she hid her face in his chest again. He ran his hand across her hair, undoing the messy braid and brushing his fingers through the untamed locks. His chest seized for a moment, as if he were having trouble taking a breath. He cleared his throat.

"Would you marry me, when all of this is through?"

She looked up at him, shocked. She had never even considered an alternative. Although - truly - she hadn't thought much of the two of them married, either.

All the same, Fina grinned and her answer was easy. "Who else,  _juli_?"

**xxxxx**

When she awoke, she knew it must be about midday. Arik was still asleep beside her, and she carefully disentangled herself from him.

Fina quietly washed herself and dressed in clean clothes, moving quickly to keep her bare skin out of the clutches of the cold air.

"You look better without them."

She glanced up to see Arik had woken up and was watching her through half-lidded eyes.

"I don't know how you made it as long as you did as a Greybeard!" She teased, coming over to kiss him. He blushed - much to her pleasure - and she continued her torment of him. "If last night was anything to go by, you should have dedicated your life to Dibella!"

" _Fina!_ "

She giggled at his embarrassment and kissed him again.

"I have to go and see if Uncle has burnt the Empire to the ground yet. Sleep some more."

Arik complained sleepily, but let her go. She slipped on her boots and headed for the battle room.

Once she arrived, she was met by someone she had not expected to see.

"Ralof?"

"Fina!" He looked up from the map he and Ulfric were staring at, face lighting up at the sight of her.

Ralof rounded the table, embracing her. She went rigid, patting his arm awkwardly and then pushing him away as politely as possible.

Ulfric gave her a searching look over the younger man's shoulder, and she blushed.

"Divines, but it is good to see you!"

She hadn't seen him since they had returned from Helgen, and before that they had been...intimate. Nothing serious, a thrill on the road - something to keep them warm and sated on long sleepless nights.

 _But now there is Arik_. She felt a stab of guilt.

"You, also." She nodded, hoping her face would not betray her unease.

"I'm glad you're awake, Fina." Ulfric said, saving her further discomfort.

"I imagine you've been busy." She commented, coming to stand beside him.

"Aye." He gestured to the map. "We have troops moving into Whiterun within the next two days. I have already sent reinforcements. We will hit here, here, and here." He indicated several points. "They will be unprepared. There is no chance the Imperials can rouse troops in time."

"Unless they already had them arranged and were anticipating this move after my kidnap."

Jorleif brought her a chair and she sat down gratefully.

Ulfric grunted. "Balgruuf would not have allowed it, not with the peace talks happening. He is too honest a man, and too aware of what is going on in his hold. Beyond that - they would have held you in Solitude and expected our attack there."

Fina didn't argue. Her Uncle's mind was set on war, and it sounded as though the orders to attack Whiterun had already been sent. There was no going back now.

"Ralof has built a team of mercenaries and I have a special task for you."

"Mercenaries?" Fina asked in surprise. She had never held much love for men who followed coin over their hearts.

"He has been working with them since Helgen, completing undercover missions for me - reconnaissance mostly, some sabotage." Ulfric explained. "I could not spare the men and as long as we pay them well, they stay loyal and fight well."

Fina sighed and leaned back. "And what if we get into a tight situation and they decide no amount of money is worth it?"

"If we get into a situation like that, it won't make much of a difference." Ralof shrugged. "Besides, I think you will find that each of these men have as much of a reason to hate the Imperials as we do."

That gave her pause, and she conceded. "Fine, what is this mission of ours?"

"Locating your dragon, of course." Her Uncle replied, picking up a cup of wine and taking a long swallow. He added, "And if you can stick that  _mer_  cunt in the gut while you're at it, I would not be opposed."

"You're sending us to Solitude?"

"Aye."

Fina leaned forward to stare at the map, resting her head in her hands.

"Elenwen has no idea what Odahviing showed you?" Ulfric prompted.

"I wouldn't say  _no idea_...She must suspect something, based on my disappearing. Divines, why didn't I kill her while I had the chance?"

"What has passed is past. I am just thankful you escaped at all." He rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"We will keep their attentions on Whiterun for the moment, and give you time to find the dragon."

"Jarl Ulfric told me that you saw the dragon in a cave, with a metal grate over a hole in the sky?" Ralof took over, coming to look at the map with her.

"Aye." Fina uncovered her face to look.

"We have already been in that area some." He remarked, gesturing to Solitude. Some caves were already marked down. "We know some are Imperial occupied. Some used for the East Empire Company storage, others for munitions, city supplies, that sort of thing. We also know there is an extensive network below the city. We haven't been able to access it yet, it's too risky. We imagine some of it is used for - "

"Interrogation." Ulfric broke in, sending the room into an uneasy silence.

Fina immediately wished Galmar were here to break it - he would know what to say. Jorleif had been scribbling on some papers at a desk behind them, and he stopped abruptly, mouth hanging open.

"Nothing in that section will be large enough for a dragon." The Jarl continued dismissively.

Ralof and Fina exchanged a look and then the younger Nord continued.

"I think they would be crazy to keep him too close. It would be difficult to smuggle in a dragon too near the city."

Fina flinched, the image of Odahviing in chains renewed, a puddle of his own blood and filth pooled around his feet. In her mind, she could almost smell it - as if she had been there herself.

"Fina?" Ralof touched her hand. She jerked back, as if his skin was made of ice.

"Sorry. I'm fine." She offered him a half smile and then reached back to quickly twist her hair into a braid, keeping her hands busy and away from him.

He looked puzzled, and she tried not to notice the glimmer of confused hurt in his eyes.

"So where would we begin?"

"Do you remember anything else? Plants? Snow?"

"No. Nothing like that. He said he was near the capital and that it was Elenwen that had him."

"So we know there is an entrance from the top, but there must be another way in if Elenwen pays him visits. I can't imagine she drops from the sky." Ralof leaned on his fists, blonde hair falling in his face. As it did, the scent of him wafted across to her and it struck Fina with a parade of memories.

Her stomach twisted, remembering the phantom sensation of his hands, his lips. Another pang of guilt struck her chest. She coughed into her hand and focused her attention elsewhere.

_It was so easy to forget all of this._

"There must be others, too, I'd imagine." Fina mused. "Elenwen doesn't seem the type to do all of the dirty work herself."

Ralof nodded, agreeing. "I suppose our first order of business is to start narrowing down possible locations, and see if we can somehow get a tail on Elenwen."

"I imagine we'll be setting off tomorrow, Uncle?"

"The sooner, the better." He tugged gently at her braid, as he so often did when she was younger and she smiled up at him, pressing his hand where it came to rest on her shoulder.

"Right, take me to meet these mercenaries of yours."

Ralof nodded. "Come on then." He waved for her, heading back out into the main hall. Fina followed, suddenly nervous at being alone with him.

"I've heard whispers of your name all throughout Skyrim, Dragonborn."

"Oh?"

"Aye, tales of dragons stopped by a single arrow and men thrown off cliffs with a single word." There was a false awe in his voice that told her he was smart enough not to believe it.

"It's as if they were there!"

Ralof scoffed, bumping her with his shoulder. Fina laughed and turned to open the door into the guards' barracks.

"They aren't in there, Fina."

"No?" She turned back to him, puzzled.

"Not enough room." He shook his head. "We've got them put up at Candlehearth." Then, looking her over he added. "Should you get something warmer?"

She rose her brows and pushed passed him, out the main doors. "Nord women don't feel the cold, Ralof. You should know that by now."

Outside, there were great drifts of snow - the remnants of the previous day's blizzard. Fina immediately regretted her decision to leave without putting on something warmer. She picked her way through the shallows, much to Ralof's amusement.

"Aye, a true Nord woman."

She ignored him.

Inside Candlehearth, she was consumed by the warmth. The inviting sound of friendly chatter enveloped her ears and drew her up the stairs, following Ralof's lead. He lead her to a table seated with four, each of them seeming very out of place in their own right.

The most obvious of which, was an Orsimer. He was the largest of them, sitting straight and rigid in his chair, arms crossed and a bottle of mead clutched tightly in one fist. His olive green skin shone in the light, almost appearing as if it were oiled. His hair hung loose in a long dark mane down the very centre of his head and the sides were shaved bare, creating a very striking look.

However, the features that drew her eyes the most, were that of his face. His lips were thin and stretched around his pointed yellow teeth, like a great thick wall with a large sharp tusk at either end. With the way his jaw was set - oddly protruding, in comparison to a Nord's - it almost looked uncomfortable. Above that, he had two deep-set grey-blue eyes, crystal clear and wide; the pupils only small flickering dots of black in the centre.

As if sensing her gaze, his attention turned to her, but his expression was entirely unreadable. Next, her attention was drawn to the woman on his right.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, with glistening ebony hair loose over her shoulders and sparkling green eyes. She was older than Fina - perhaps in her early thirties, and looked to be made of pure muscle. Her head was turned and she was conversing with a smaller man beside her - he was wiry with orange-red hair and eyes that never settled for long.

"Crew!" Ralof said, drawing their attention. "This is Norfina, niece to Jarl Ulfric, Stormcloak Officer, and the Dragonborn."

As the woman turned to look at her, Fina had to catch her breath. The side of her face that had been turned away came into view, and the entirety of it, including her neck, was covered in deep-set spiraling red-patterned scars. It was as if someone had taken a branding iron and seared it into her left side from her collarbone up, leaving it completely disfigured.

The woman caught her eye with a knowing look and gave a small nod.

"Fina." She corrected Ralof gently.

He shrugged and then pointed at the Orsimer. "This is Talenok, the finest dual bladesman I've seen in all my days." Talenok nodded politely, eyes averted, and she took note of the twin Orcish blades at his sides.

"Cathin, our Nordic beauty with the wicked war hammer." The scarred woman tipped her mug in Fina's direction. "Beside her, we've got little Quim, wonder with a bow and our go-to for infiltration."

Quim stood up, taking Fina's hand and kissing it as he bowed low. Fina looked at him in confusion. He winked at her as he stood straight again. "It's a pleasure, Dragonborn."

"I'm sure." She managed, smirking at him. Fina found she liked the way his bright hair was a curling mess that fell about his head untamed. It gave him character.

"Steady on, Quim." Ralof admonished him. "And lastly, we've got Nettle. Our resident drunkard."

The last man was nearly as big as Talenok, which was odd considering Fina judged him to be a Breton. His eyes and hair reminded her much of tree bark - changing shades of greenish brown, depending on the way the light hit him.

"Don' be unfair, Ray." Nettle complained with a groan, but Fina could tell from the red ring around his eyes and the bright glow to the tip of his nose that it was very likely true.

Ralof winked at her. "Besides that, he's mean with a broadsword."

"It's good to meet all of you." Fina smiled at them, shaking each of their hands in turn. She tried carefully to keep her eyes from resting too long on Talenok's face or Cathin's scars. For being a reconnaissance team, they didn't exactly blend in.

"We're setting out tomorrow lads, so don't drown yourselves in ale." Ralof warned, putting a hand on Fina's shoulder and trying to steer her away. She carefully sidestepped out of his grip, having no plans to head back to the palace yet. If she was going to be traveling with these people and putting her life in their hands, she wanted to know who she was dealing with.

Instead, she pulled up a nearby chair and sat down between Talenok and Nettle.

"Speaking of ale, Ray - you'll get me one, won't you?" She grinned at him and he looked at her uncertainly, almost as if he would disagree. But then he just shrugged and went to do as she asked.

"How long have you been in Windhelm for?" She asked, looking around the table.

It was Quim who replied, and she imagined he would be the quickest of the group to warm to her.

"Three days now." He bounced a little in his chair, pushing the curls back from his forehead as he picked a bit of meat off of his plate with his fingers and popped it into his mouth, chewing noisily. "Not a day too soon either, with weather this foul."

"Aye," Nettle agreed. "I'm abou' ready t' take off, though. Can' be bothered wi' sittin' still."

"That's just because he's already struck out with every woman in Windhelm." Cathin added darkly, taking a drink from her mug.

Nettle glared at her. "M' beds bin warmer n' yours, Cath."

Quim leaned across the table conspiratorily. "He has wet dreams sometimes, bless him."

Cath choked on her drink and Fina covered her mouth, looking at Nettle to see his reaction. He grabbed Quim by the neck of his shirt, nearly dragging him across the table so they were face to face.

Fina, not sure what to do, reached out to stop Nettle. Ralof was back and set a mug down before her, blocking any interference.

"Ah, don't worry Fina. These two might as well be brothers - they squabble like it." He said, and, as she watched, she could see what he meant.

After a long moment of the two mercenaries staring each other down, they both burst out laughing and Nettle settled Quim back down in his seat, ruffling his hair for good measure. As she looked to Cathin and Talenok for their reactions, she saw that neither of them looked surprised. She thought she could even see a flicker of a smile cross the Orsimer's features.

_Perhaps this won't be so horrible._

After they had stayed for a couple of drinks, Fina and Ralof returned to the palace.

"What do you make of them, then?" He asked as the main doors closed behind them.

"They aren't the most inconspicuous bunch."

"That's true." He admitted. "Talenok normally wears a mask on the job. As does Cathin."

"How did she get her scars?"

"An Imperial Altmer. Magic fire. I meant it when I said none of them hold any love for the Empire."

Fina shuddered at the thought of fire doing that to Cathin's beautiful face and shook her head.

"Quim seems like a brat, but sweet. I'm not sure what to make of Nettle yet."

"Nettle fancies himself a ladies man. He drinks more than the rest of them, but as long as it doesn't get in the way of his work I don't put up a fuss. He is skilled with his blade."

Ralof started back towards the battle room.

"And what's Talenok's story?"

"None of us have gotten much out of him. He keeps to himself most of the time." He shrugged. "We know he's from somewhere in the Dragontail Mountains, but he's been a mercenary in Skyrim for the last four years or so."

"What's his reason for hating the Empire?"

"They jailed him for little reason and worked him in a mine for a full year before letting him go free."

"Never!"

"Truly."

When they turned the corner into the battle room, Ulfric, Arik, Galmar, and Jorleif were in discussion around the table.

Arik's face lit up when he saw her, and she couldn't help but smile back, coming to stand beside him. From across the room, she felt Ralof's eyes.

"Well, what do you think?" Ulfric asked, looking between her and Ralof.

"They seem good."

"And they will be ready to leave in the morning?"

"Aye." Ralof replied, to which Ulfric looked pleased.

"Then it is settled. You leave in the morning." The Jarl said decidedly.

Fina leaned her shoulder against Arik, who brushed his fingers across her palm.

"So we are well and truly at war?" Fina sighed, eyes skimming over the little red and blue flags placed all over the map.

"Talos help us, but we are." Galmar grunted in reply.

 


	28. Dragon's Milk

**A R I K**

* * *

Fina had packed the night before and - despite her attempts to stay awake and see as much of Arik as she possibly could - she fell asleep in his arms sometime around midnight.

For Arik, however, there was no sleep. He was propped up in bed, listening to her quiet breathing and staring into the glowing flames from the fireplace. There was a tight aching in his chest that he didn't imagine would dissipate anytime soon - in fact he fully expected it would worsen the further from her he was.

When Fina had told him - vaguely, of course, for good reason - the mission that Ulfric was sending her on, he was immediately relieved. It meant that she wouldn't be at the front lines of the battle and he thought it also meant she would be safer. But the more and more he thought on it, the less he saw that to be true.

She would be undercover, behind enemy lines searching for a dragon and for the woman who had captured and tortured her Uncle during the Great War. Arik cringed at the thought and glanced down at her.

Her lips were parted slightly, red-rose hair covering her eyes and splayed across his chest. She was bare, and when she breathed he could feel the swell of her breasts pressed against his side. He sighed and brushed the hair from her face, bending to kiss her brow.

_You will drive yourself mad, Arik._

He knew he would need to throw himself into his studies at the College if he stood any chance of sanity.

Before the sun had risen, a knock came at the door, and without waiting for a response, someone opened it and poked their head in. It was the blonde man Fina had come in with yesterday - Ralof, if Arik remembered correctly.

"Oh - I'm sorry, I thought this was...Fina's...room…" His eyes lit on Fina wrapped around Arik and paled.

"It is." Arik replied quietly, adjusting the blankets so she was covered completely. Fina slept on, completely oblivious. Something inside of him was suddenly protective and he bristled, sitting straighter in the bed.

Ralof cleared his throat. "Yes, well...we should be heading out soon."

"I'll wake her."

He nodded, stepping out and closing the door behind him. Arik shoved aside his uneasiness and bent to kiss Fina, rubbing gently at her back until she blinked up at him sleepily.

"You let me sleep." She complained, her grip on him strengthening. He chuckled, rolling her onto her back and kissing down her neck and chest.

"Ralof came to get you." He stopped between her breasts and she sighed.

"He saw you here?"

"He let himself in."

Fina covered her eyes and groaned.

"What?"

"Nothing, he is just...difficult." She looked up and smiled, taking his face between her hands. "You didn't sleep at all, did you?"

"No."

"What will I do with you?"

Arik shrugged and sat up. "Not much until the war is over."

Fina looked away from him as he dressed and then got up herself, making quick work of washing and tying her hair back. Arik watched her, noticing the brisque way she moved and knowing his last comment had been thoughtless.

She was tugging on her boots was a careless ferocity when he stopped her hands and bent to his knees, adjusting them for her. When he finished he sat back on his heels and looked up at her.

" _Krosis_ , Fina.  _Zu'u zeyda uful._ " He took her hands.

"I am worried, too." She murmured, gaze softening. Fina tilted his chin up, kissing him hungrily. "We have the rest of our lives, Arik."

He pulled her to her feet, kissing her again and dragging her body flush against his. " _Keit_?"

" _Zu keit_." She whispered. "I will come back to you."

In the main hall, Ulfric and Galmar were there to see the party off. Arik could see what Fina had meant when she'd mentioned to him they were an eclectic bunch. An Orsimer, a massive Breton, a tiny Nord - or Imperial ? - with a mop of bright red curls, and a woman whose left side looked to be entirely covered in horrible scars.

As he watched them leave, Arik felt Ulfric's hand on his shoulder. Fina glanced back, and touched her fingers to her lips, a sad smile caught in her eyes.

_You would think I'd be used to saying goodbye to her by now._

When they were gone, the Jarl turned to him.

"Fina told me you wish to go to the College?"

"Yes." Arik nodded, reflexively adjusting his eyepatch.

"Good. We will miss your company around here, but it will be a smart fit." Ulfric gestured for him to follow. "I've got something for you, in that case."

They ended up through the battle room and ascended the stairs, into Ulfric's room itself. He looked around uncertainly, watching as the Jarl went to a safe in the corner and fumbled for a key at his hip. After digging around in it for a moment, he returned to Arik with a heavy pouch.

"This should be enough for whatever you need. Any admittance fees, robes, books...wands?" He looked uncertain and Arik smiled.

"I am grateful, Jarl Ulfric but I cannot accept -"

" _Kos stiildus ahrk kun nii,_  Arik." He said sternly. At Arik's shock, he laughed. "Do not forget, I studied with those old fools for even longer than you. For ten years."

_Ten years?_

Ulfric settled the bag into Arik's hands.

" _Kogaan,_ my Jarl."

" _Imzik mii zokah._ " He smiled. "Make us proud."

**F I N A**

* * *

It was brisk and clear outside, but with a killer wind that chilled her to the bone. Fina slapped her arms as she walked, wishing that all of this could have taken place in the warmer months.

She decided to be silent on the road and observe. Cathin and Ralof took the lead, entering into a quiet discussion. In place behind them, were Quim and Nettle. Quim was prancing about, making jokes and laughing like a fool.

When she really looked at him, she realised he must be even younger than she was. He was boyish in every way possible. Posture, face, attitude. Even his simple leather armour looked as if he'd borrowed it from a training school.

His bow, however, did catch her eye. It was ebony - no mistaking that. Such a material was rare, and valuable beyond compare. She squinted, admiring it as it shone on his back. It must be quite prized to him. Perhaps a family heirloom?

Nettle carried a Dwarven greatsword. Fina had never seen one up close and she found the design fascinating - she'd have to ask him if she could look at it later on.

A pace and a half before her, walked Talenok. He kept his head down, and his mane of hair was braided intricately down his back. Fina watched him for awhile - he must be nearly seven feet tall if she was any judge. He was wearing close-fitting leather armour, but it was dyed black - something she hadn't seen often. His hands rested on the pommels of his dual swords as he walked - Fina couldn't decided if that meant he was relaxed or on guard.

She was pleased they were able to keep up a brisk pace, only stopping every so often so they could pass around the waterskins or the flask of spirits. They kept themselves sated by gnawing on bits of dried meat and cold sliced potatoes soaked in grease.

At midday, Ralof fell back into step with her.

"We need to go off road now." He explained. "It's too dangerous for us to be seen the way we're going."

"And which way is that?"

"Through the Pale."

"The  _Pale_?"

Fina blanched. In the cold season, through the Pale - land which had just been declared Imperial territory? And to not follow the safety of the road?

"I know what you're thinking, but it's for the best." Ralof removed one of his hide gloves and wiped at his nose and chin. "Cathin is the best navigator you could ever hope for. Her father was a pirate and she was raised at sea. She knows the stars and the weather systems like the back of her hand. We've better chance of happening upon Talos himself out here than getting lost."

"I don't doubt her skill, Ralof, but do we really need to spend more time in Imperial territory than is necessary? Couldn't we cut down lower, through more neutral territory? It'd save us from the cold, too."

Ralof shook his head and pulled his glove back on, beating his hands together and the tucking them under his arms. The further the sun got to the horizon, the colder it became. They would need to find shelter sooner rather than later, especially now that Fina understood they were heading further north.

"It's a fine line, Fina. The further north, the fewer people, even if we are in Imperial territory. The further south, the closer to Whiterun, and the closer to the front line. Even if we manage to land right in the neutral zone, it means more people - more exposure." He glanced up ahead. Fina could see Talenok rubbing at his ears, which had taken on a blue tinge.

"Besides," He added, "Nord women don't feel the cold, isn't that right? And what's a little trek through Imperial territory to the Dragonborn?"

Fina scoffed, reaching up to adjust the straps of her pack. "I'm not the one you should be worried about." She nodded to Talenok, and to Quim who had stopped his jumping and was curled in on himself, not even bothering to keep up conversation with Nettle now.

"They're fine." Ralof replied. "Besides, you find Quim cute now, but you'll be glad for these quiet periods soon enough. Just you wait."

Fina chuckled, but then fell silent. She thought back to that morning, wondering what Ralof had thought when he burst in to find her in bed with Arik.

 _And to that end - what did_ Arik  _think of Ralof letting himself into my room?_

If Arik had been upset, he hadn't shown it. And truly, Ralof had no reason to be upset. He didn't have any claim over Fina, and he knew that. He'd known that from the start.

"So, who was that wee lad with Jarl Ulfric and Galmar last night?"

 _So it begins_. Fina cleared her throat, kicking aside a clump of frozen snow with her boot. She tried not to roll her eyes at the 'wee lad' comment.

"Arik?"

"Aye, Arik."

"He was with the Greybeards when I went to High Hrothgar for instruction." She said carefully.

"He seems nice enough."

"He is. Uncle is very fond of him."

"I see."

Fina could hear the tension in his tone and hoped he would leave the topic there.

"Here!" Cathin called from ahead. Fina glanced up and could see she was leading them off of the main road and up what looked to be a deer trail through the trees. Taking this as an opportunity, she plunged ahead coming up beside Quim and Nettle.

"Are you cold, Quim? Your lips look like you've been eating deathbells."

He looked up at her, offering a cheeky grin. "Nah, I learned my lesson with those the hard way."

"Where are you from?"

"Falkreath."

"No wonder! You might as well be from Cyrodiil." She winked at him.

"Mum was." Quim shrugged, accepting the flask from Nettle and taking a few quick sips from it. "She came up from Chorrol after the war and met Dad."

He held the flask out to Fina, and after a moments hesitation she took it and tipped it back. The liquid inside was foul by all means, and it burnt her mouth and throat, but the warmth it spread through her chest was a welcome distraction from the cold.

She coughed, pounding on her chest a few times. "Shor's bones!"

Nettle accepted it back and tucked it into a pouch on his chest, grinning toothily. "Tha'll put hair on your chest."

"I don't doubt it."

"We call it Dragon's Milk." Quim told her, hopping over a fallen log.

_It's certainly put the vigor back in him, whatever it is._

"I was admiring your bow." Fina pointed to it.

"It was Mum's. She taught me everything I know." He reached back to touch it fondly, his movements subconscious. She could tell from the fleeting way he caressed it that it was something he did often. "Which is a damn sight more than any archer I've ever met before."

"You must be close."

"We were, aye."

Fina swallowed, glancing at him and seeing a seriousness in his eyes that hadn't been present before. Instead of pressing for more information, she let it go. Perhaps that loss was his reason for hating the Imperials.

"That's a fine sword, too, Nettle."

"Aye, bu' you'll ne'er git me back in none of them Dwemer ruins again, I'll tell ye tha' much."

Fina chuckled, looking ahead to see the path becoming thinner and thinner, the underbrush closing in around them. They had to continue single file from there. Cathin was still in the lead, followed by Ralof, Quim, Nettle, herself, and finally Talenok.

_Pirate or no, this seems like a bad position to put ourselves in._

"Spiders already give me the shivers wi'out bein' made o' metal n' spewin' oil, too." Nettle continued. "Not t' mention them rods that shoot sparks n' spinning blades 'at pop out the floor. Those Dwarves were all kinds o' twisted." He added.

At the mention of the Dwemer rods, a picture lit up in Fina's mind. She was inside the cave where Odahviing was kept, and everything was just the same except that there were two Altmer there with their backs to her. She could only recognise their race by their height and long, light hair.

They stood before Odahviing, each holding one of the rods that Nettle had mentioned - long, dark golden in colour, with a garnet held in place at the end by four sharp points. They were pointing them at the dragon and shocking him with bolts of hot blue light, causing his skin to sizzle and Odahviing himself to wail in pain through his heavy metal gag.

She felt violently ill and stopped in her tracks, nearly dry heaving up the contents of her stomach and catching her balance against a tree.

_Odahviing!_

"Dragonborn?" A deep rumble of a voice sounded quietly beside her and for a moment she thought it was the dragon who had spoken, but then she felt someone's strong grip around her arm. When she looked up, it was Talenok.

"Ralof!" He called, and the procession stopped.

Fina swallowed the cold air and felt it sting her lungs. She looked at the Orsimer, watched the quietness in his massive grey eyes, and felt herself calm. He released her almost immediately and took a step back, just as Ralof neared.

"Fina, what is it?"

"I thought I saw…" She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to drag up the vision again. Her mind went blank. "Odahviing." She shook her head. "No, it's gone. I must have been imagining things."

Ralof took her arm, pulling her from the tree and helping her stand on her own again. Once she was upright, he passed her the waterskin and examined her face.

"Make sure you are drinking enough water." He scolded.

Fina scowled at him. "This isn't my first time on the road, Ralof." She wanted to add 'and remember to whom you speak' for good measure, but decided against it.

Instead, she simply pushed past him and nodded to Cathin to continue.

Soon enough, any doubt she'd had in the woman had been disproved when they broke from the thicket.

On one side of them, was a solid wall of rock - high enough to block the oncoming wind. On the other, sparse enough trees that they had plenty of room to move around, but close enough that they bore the worst of the snowfall.

They continued on for another hour like this, and then came to a stop.

"We should draw camp now, while we've still got the shelter of the rock." Cathin recommended, slinging her pack down on the ground.

"Sounds agreeable to me." Quim was trembling like a leaf and dropped his pack beside hers.

As Fina watched, it became evident they all had their assigned tasks when it came to setting up camp; Quim was to hunt dinner, Nettle and Cathin set up the tents, Ralof prepared the fire, and Talenok set off the with waterskins, apparently looking for a nearby source of fresh water.

Unsure of what to do with herself, Fina grabbed a few of the more dry sticks she could see nearby and added them to the pile Ralof had started. Once he'd cleared a place for them, she silently helped him build the stack.

"I can be of some service here." She said, once he'd stepped back to fumble with a bit of flint. Fina crouched by the tinder and cupped her hands around her mouth, aiming for the underbelly of the pile. Truly, she had no idea if it would work.

" _YOL TOOR!_ " A stream of fire shot forth, slightly larger than she had intended, but enough that it set the damp wood ablaze instantly. Fina jumped back, cursing.

Ralof laughed, shaking his head. "Show off. We'll need more wood to keep this monstrosity alive."

"I'm still getting used to it." She shrugged, turning to go and look for more wood. Quim stood behind her, a look of wonder on his face. He had two rabbits and a squirrel tucked under his arm.

"Dibella's tits, Fina." He said breathlessly. "That's some trick."

Fina flushed. "So is that," She gestured to the prizes he held. "I've never known such a swift hunter."

"He usually brings us twice that!" Cathin called from where she and Nettle were at work on the third of three tents.

"My hands shake in the cold." Quim complained, sticking his tongue out at her. He rounded Fina to crouch at the edge of the fire and, pulling a small blade from his boot, began to gut the animals.

Soon the camp was set up and they sat around the fire as the sun went down, passing around bits of roasted rabbit and squirrel and the flask of Dragon's Milk. Fina had to admit, she was growing to like the bitter drink.

They talked happily, and she was beginning to see just how tightly woven they'd all become. It was like a family - albeit a very dysfunctional one - and Fina was happy to sit back and regard them. It was only Talenok who seemed to be nearly as much of an outsider as her; there were even some jokes made at his expense.

"Aw, but why do I have to share with the Orc again." Quim complained to Ralof, just loud enough that Talenok could hear. "He smells of burnt hair."

"Because," Ralof replied calmly. "You are the smallest, and he is the largest…and the smell comes from your own head, I've no doubt."

Quim made a whining noise, but said nothing else. Fina watched Talenok across the fire during their exchange. Never once, though, did she see even a flicker of anger cross his face.

That night, she and Cathin set their bedrolls up in the same tent. Nettle and Ralof shared the one beside them, and Talenok and Quim were next to them.

Fina huddled down in the furs, curling herself into a ball and wishing desperately she had Arik's warmth around her.

It wasn't until she heard the thunderous snoring of multiple sleeping men in the night that she finally found her own dreams.

**A R I K**

* * *

Upon further investigation, the pouch that Ulfric gave him was not only filled with coins, but also with sparkling emeralds, sapphires, and amethysts. He didn't discover this until he was bundled up in the back of the carriage to Winterhold, and then he tried to hastily hide the fact from the very unusual Argonian woman who sat across from him, blinking curiously from her unusual orange eye slits.

He laughed nervously, fumbling them back into the bag and tucking it into the folds of his cloak.

_There is enough in here to buy a small village._

They reached Winterhold the next day, and from the moment Arik jumped down from the carriage he realised how very alone he was. The entire place looked entirely desolate. It was cold and barren - half of the buildings looked abandoned and the streets were entirely empty.

He adjusted his pack on his shoulder and looked back to see the carriage pulling away. Half of him wanted to call out for the man to stop. 'I've made a mistake!' He wanted to say. 'Take me back!'

Heaving a sigh, Arik turned around and started towards the massive stone ramp which seemed to lead to the College. He climbed it, and at the top came face to face with an Altmer woman, her light pink-red coloured hair drawn up sharply into twin tails at the back of her head.

She was perched on the edge of the wall, covered in the thick white pelt of a snowy sabre cat. She appraised him slowly.

"What brings you to the College, stranger?"

"I wish to study here." Arik replied, hearing the smallness of his own voice.

"Speak up! The winds sweep your voice away." She took a step towards him, eyes narrowing.

"I wish to study at the College." He said it more loudly this time, raising a hand to touch at his scar. It was more sensitive to the elements than the rest of his face, and it felt like it was frozen solid.

"Well you've missed the first week of classes already." The Altmer crossed her arms. "What school of magic is your specialty?"

"I was hoping to study restoration." He shrugged. "Mostly defen - "

Arik was cut off by her shrill bark of laughter. " _Restoration?_  A little Nord come to the College to study the fine art of  _healing._ "

"What's wrong with that?" He straightened.

At that, she laughed even louder. "Oh, but if you aren't cute. Well, let's see it then."

"See what?"

"Your restoration magic, of course. You can't expect me to let you in without having proof."

"But...Well, that's why I'm here…" Arik began uncertainly. "I don't know magic yet, I'm here to learn it."

"This gets better and better! Wait until I tell Mirabelle about this!" She clutched her hands to her chest, laugh after mirthful laugh tumbling from her lips. "My dear boy, no. This is where you come to grow and perfect your art - but first you must have something to work with."

Arik took a step back from her, hating the way she openly mocked him. Obviously he had been mistaken in his interpretation of what exactly happened here. But hadn't Esbern written to Urag gro-Shub for him? Surely the Blade had known what went on here?

"We don't just let  _anyone_  in. Especially not these days. No, I'm afraid there is no chance you'll be getting in. At least not until you've learned a spell of two. Once you've done that, come back and show me. Then I'll  _consider_  letting you through." She dismissed him with a wave and then retreated to her spot on the wall.

He stared at her in disbelief, watching as she absently played with a ball of fire between her outstretched palms.

After a moment, he forced himself to turn and walk back towards the village.

 _I can think of a list of unpleasant things I'd like to say to her._  Arik thought bitterly, making his way towards the small Inn.

Inside, the place was empty save for two patrons.

"Hello, traveler!" The barman called out, hurrying forward to sit him at a table. Arik sat down gratefully. "What can I get for you?"

"I could do with a hot meal and a room for the night."

"How long will you be staying with us?"

"I'm not certain. I was hoping to train at the College, but it happens I came ill prepared for it." Arik said truthfully.

The barman's smile faded some at the mention of the College, but he nodded. "Of course, young sir. I'll fetch you some food straight away. Would you like me to take your bag to a room?"

"Thank you." He surrendered his pack to the man.

"The College, is it?" A new voice sounded on his other side and Arik turned in his seat in time to see a Bosmer man sit in the empty chair beside him.

Arik eyed him warily, not sure he was ready to be mocked by another elf quite yet. "That was the idea."

"Faralda didn't let you past, I take it?"

"The Altmer?"

"Red hair, personality colder than the northern winds?"

"Sounds about right."

The man grinned, the lines around his piercing crimson eyes creasing. "That'll be her. You've missed admissions anyway, what brings you so late?"

"I didn't know when admissions were." Arik replied, smiling his thanks when the barman set down a steaming bowl of stew and a mug of ale before him.

"Ahh. What is your path of study?"

"I was hoping for restoration."

"No wonder she didn't like you! Faralda is all about destruction. What spells have you learned so far?"

"I haven't learned any."

His already high brows rose even higher, nearly touching his hairline. "Well, that is a problem."

"So I am discovering." Arik sighed and leaned back in his chair, gulping back half of his ale.

"Perhaps I could help you with that."

"Do you attend the college?"

"I graduated long ago." He waved his hand. "I work there now mainly as a merchant. I sell alchemy supplies, some potions, robes, soul gems, spell books, even some weapons suited to mages when I get my hands on them."

Arik stared at him, wondering what it would cost him to enlist the help of the elf. "How could you help?"

"I'm always looking for some extra coin. If you've got it, I'm not opposed to offering some tutelage." The Bosmer shrugged, taking several slow sips from his own drink. "When students come to the College, they normally have been practising amateur magic on their own for some time. Taking that into account, and also the fact classes have been in session for a full week...You will be quite far behind. You will need all the help you can get."

"How much?"

"Well, you'll need spell books, robes...I'm assuming you haven't got either of those things - ?" When Arik shook his head, he continued, counting out on his fingers. "To get you properly caught up we should put in at least four hours a night, five days a week…"

He sighed. "Out with it."

The elf grinned at him, pleased. "Straight to business, I like that in a man. Say, one hundred a week plus whatever is needed for spell books, ingredients, and robes?"

"Done." Arik shrugged, knowing he would have more than enough from what Ulfric gave him. He held out his hand to shake on the deal.

"I'm sure it will be a pleasure…"

"Arik."

"Enthir." The Bosmer replied, clasping his hand. "By the way, before I drive myself mad with curiosity…" He gestured to Arik's eye.

"Draugr Deathlord. Poisoned blade."

Enthir nodded knowingly. "Suddenly your decision to study restoration is making so much more sense. I best get back to the College. I'll be back here tomorrow afternoon to teach you a spell - something to get you past Faralda so we can at least get you admitted and into classes."

"Thank you, Enthir."

"No, thank you, Master Arik." Enthir stood and clapped Arik on the shoulder, simultaneously finishing his drink in a single gulp. He made his way out of the Inn, letting a swirl of snow in as he pushed through the door.

"It may be none of my business, young sir, but you best watch yourself with that one." The barman said quietly, coming to retrieve Enthir's empty mug and the coin he'd set down to pay for his drink. "All sorts of bad things seem to happen where he is concerned."

 


	29. Tempest

**A R I K**

* * *

True to his word, Enthir returned to The Frozen Hearth the next afternoon, armed with several books and a robe stashed over his arm. He plopped down at the table beside Arik and dropped his things, nearly toppling a bowl of soup in the process.

"There, this will get us started." The elf said by way of greeting, leaving Arik to clear them both room and smile apologetically at the barman, who'd he'd discovered last night was named Dagur.

"A spell tome for simple Healing." Enthir slid it across to him. "And one that  _might_  get you a tiny puff of flames, just something to keep Faralda from entirely dismissing you."

Arik picked up the books, checking the symbols on the front that he only vaguely recognised. One was a charcoal colour with a symbol like a flaming hand, and the other was dark golden with what he suspected was a phoenix or some other type of bird.

"How do spell tomes work?"

"You really came into this ignorant, didn't you?" Enthir looked him up and down, a look of awed amusement on his face.

"Evidently so." Arik sighed and set the books down. "I suppose the best thing to do is just assume I know absolutely nothing and start from there."

He nodded and passed Arik the final two books. One was called  _A Short History of Magic_  and the other  _Basics of Novice Magic_.

"You can start reading those in your spare time, but lets start with this Healing spell tome. That, at least, is fairly harmless. We'll leave the Flames well alone for now." Enthir took the grey book back from him and then passed across the robes. They were beige and teal, with a long multi-tiered tunic falling into padded leggings. It had many pouches and a secure belt.

"Now, these robes are specially enchanted for restoration magic. They'll help enhance the regeneration of your natural magicka by half - give or take, considering you Nords come to it harder than mer do - and will also make it easier for you to cast restoration spells."

Arik stood it up and held it against his chest, inspecting the fit. It looked as though it would be perfect.

"I'm not blind, boy. They'll fit. Go put them on."

Before Arik could go, Dagur came over. "Now lads, it isn't that I have anything against magic..." Although from the look on his face, it was clear he was quite uneasy. "But I'm not quite sure I'm comfortable with it being practised in the middle of my tavern."

Enthir turned slowly to look at the man, eyes narrowing. "Oh?"

Dagur backed up a step quickly, hands clutched to his chest.

Arik looked between the two of them, the silent tension in the air thick enough he was sure he could cut it and eat a slice for lunch. He cleared his throat. "That's no problem, Dagur. Enthir and I could move outside. It might be nice to have some fresh air, anyway. Right, Enthir?"

"Sure." Enthir flashed a sharp smile and gathered the books.

"I'll change and meet you outside."

The Bosmer was already gone.

Dagur smiled nervously and retreated behind the bar, beginning to polish it - something he seemed to be quite fond of doing.

Once he'd changed into the robes - which were surprisingly warm and comfortable - Arik joined Enthir on the front porch of the Hearth.

"Very nice." Enthir appraised him, nodding. "You'll fit right in, besides your eye and the glaring fact you're a Nord."

"Uh, thanks."

"Sit down, sit down." He gestured impatiently.

He did as he was told, and accepted the Healing spell tome from the Bosmer again.

"Give a quick scan of the first page. It's the same in all spell tomes - it's the first step you should follow when you're going to learn any new spell. It explains how to clear your mind and tap into your natural energies - magicka being one of them." Enthir started. "It also comes in handy when you need to stay calm when facing annoying barmen."

Arik glanced at him, the last sentence having come out in a seething grumble. Enthir tugged irritably at the collar of his robes and then shrugged.

"Pay me no mind. Go on, read it." He tapped the cover of the book.

He flipped it open, and began to read the first page. In all honesty, it sounded almost identical to the meditation instruction he'd received from Arngeir. Focus on your breathing, release the thoughts from your mind, and allow your body to become absolutely still. The only difference he could see is that this time, you were meant to then turn your attention solely to the spell in this book and simultaneously reach for your magicka to fuel said spell.

He glanced up at Enthir.

"Well?" The elf asked. "Does any of that make sense?"

"Plenty." Arik shrugged. "It's just like what I was taught at - " He cut himself off, realising what he was about to say. Judging from the fact that he was already being ridiculed for wanting to study restoration and being a Nord, he didn't figure that also letting everyone know he'd studied with the Greybeards, was being funded by Ulfric Stormcloak, and was very nearly engaged to the Dragonborn would do him any good.

"Taught where?"

"Nothing, nevermind."

Enthir gave him a look that let him know he didn't believe for a moment it was nothing, but surprisingly let it drop. "Very well. Let us try it then. We will sit quietly, focus on our breathing, and clear our minds. Once you feel your mind and body go still, I'd like you to look inside for your magicka. It always helped me as a child if I sort of imagined a blue glow inside my chest."

Arik nodded and closed the book, setting it aside. He sat straight, resting his hands on his legs and letting his gaze go soft several feet ahead. Although he was a little rusty - not having meditated much since having left High Hrothgar - it didn't take him long to find his breathing, and eventually, for his mind to be completely still.

Once he was aware of nothing but his own body and it's movement and life, he reached his awareness within himself to look for the blue glow of magicka that Enthir spoke of. When he found it, alive and thriving in the pit of his stomach, the discovery of it shocked him so much that he jumped, nearly sending him straight out of his chair.

He cried out, putting a hand to his chest as he sucked in a sharp air.

"What, what is it?"

"I'd never noticed it before!" Arik said, almost gleefully, an ecstatic smile on his face. He turned to Enthir, and saw a look of pure shock on the elf's face.

"Noticed what? Surely you haven't managed to find it already?"

"Yes. I don't know how I missed an energy source that large all this time...It's amazing!"

"Are you  _sure_  you're a Nord?"

" _Geh_." Arik flushed. "I mean, yes. I'm sure."

Enthir shook his head. "Alright then, I want you to open the spell tome and try the spell on your own if that was so easy."

_With all that time you had to sit and think during the carriage ride, you should have devised a back story._

Arik flipped open the book to the next page, and began reading. As he did, he put himself back into the meditation mindset. Although he was aware of the magicka, as the book instructed, he didn't touch it yet.

Before he knew it, he seemed to be flipping page after page, absorbing the words, and writing them into himself inherently until he reached the very last one and it told him to try what he had learned, while tapping into the magicka supply. He left the book open in his lap, raised his right hand before him, and took a deep breath.

When he tried, it was a sort of pushing sensation that started at the base of his skull and tingled from the pit of his stomach to his palm. A short burst of silver-gold light erupted in his hand, but went out just as quickly as it had started. It left his arm tingling and warm.

"You're trying too hard. Keep it slower, steadier. Especially with Healing it isn't about power, it's about maintaining it for longer periods of time. Try again."

Arik did what he said, this time weening off a little bit of his magicka at a time. The Healing light flickered to life in his palm once again, tickling his skin and bringing warmth to his whole arm. This time he managed to hold it for a few more seconds, but he began to tremble with the difficulty of trying to maintain it, and had to let it drop off.

When it stopped, he looked up at Enthir again.

The Bosmer was staring at his still-outstretched hand, mouth parted and crimson eyes forlorn.

"Is something wrong?" Arik prompted, self consciously shutting the pages. As he closed the book, it spontaneously burst into flames, shriveling into dust and disappearing before Arik could do anything about it. He jumped, not having known something like that would happen.

"What are you keeping from me Arik?" Enthir said finally, gathering himself to fix Arik with a glare.

"W-what?"

"You obviously have  _some_  sort of training in magic. You've got someone wealthy backing you, seeing as you agreed to such a high price for a tutor - only a fool would agree to 100 gold a day without trying to haggle. And not five minutes ago you spoke Dovahzul. Don't even try to deny it - I've been around long enough to recognise the language of the  _dov_  when I hear it."

Arik looked away uneasily.

"Please tell me you aren't the Dragonborn...Because they are meant to be the  _niece_  of Ulfric Stormcloak and as far as I can tell you aren't..." Enthir looked pointedly towards Arik's nethers. "Are you?"

"No!  _No_!" He cleared his throat. "I'm not the Dragonborn."

"Then who are you?"

He sighed, brushing the dust from the spell tome off of his robes. Arik weighed his options - should he hide his identity from Enthir and risk being caught in a lie, or tell him who he was and risk the elf exposing him to the rest of the College?

"It is something I would rather keep to myself." Arik replied finally, glancing back up.

"I am good with secrets and discretion, you will find. I am the one people come to if they would like things handled...in the dark, so to speak."

 _That explains Dagur's comments last night_.

"And does my paying for your services include your discretion?"

"Yes, I believe it does."

"You believe it does, or it does?"

Enthir rolled his eyes. "I'm not trying to trick you, boy. I'll keep your secrets. I hold no love for those at the College; I've no reason to tell them anything."

"Okay, okay." Arik paused. "I was an orphan raised in Whiterun, but when I turned sixteen I was sent to the Greybeards. I studied with them for three years, until the Dragonborn was discovered."

"That would explain a lot." The Bosmer put in quietly.

"You heard the Dragonborn was summoned to High Hrothgar?" Enthir nodded so he continued. "Well, when you join the Greybeards you take two vows - silence and celibacy. In one night, I managed to break both of those vows."

" _With_  the Dragonborn?" The elf let out a low whistle. "So you're  _definitely_  not a girl, then."

Arik gave him a look, and then pushed on. "Anyway, when the Greybeards discovered us, we were both expelled. As you know, the war is back on in full force and Fina has been called back to fight. In the mean time, I've come to study here. The Jarl was good enough to supply me with the funds to make that possible."

"So are you and the Dragonborn still…"

"Involved? Yes."

"Well, if that isn't juicy!" Enthir rubbed his hands together, a massive grin lighting his face.

"You said - "

"Steady, Arik. It is and will remain a secret." The Bosmer laughed, thumping him on the back. "This is certainly useful to your studies. We can skip the boring 'let's focus on our breathing' bits and move right on to your control. You can learn spells easy enough, but it's actually using them for any length of time that seems to be your problem. Understandable, considering you've been at it all of five minutes."

"Alright, teach me."

And so, they began in earnest.

**F I N A**

* * *

The next day continued seamlessly. Cathin's navigation remained flawless, and Fina never once doubted her strange turns through dense brush or between tight, rocky passages again.

She made sure to walk with everyone at some point during the day so that she could get to know them all a little better. Cathin was a bit gruff and down to business, but Fina discovered she had a soft spot for speaking about the constellations and now she knew far more about the star sign she was born under than she'd ever thought possible.

Although Talenok didn't complain when she walked with him, he wasn't much for conversation and normally they were silent. There was something in his silence, though. It was comfortable. It was just listening. Footfall after footfall, the quiet intake and exhalation of breath. She didn't feel like he was waiting for her to do anything, and so she didn't feel the need to do it. It was something she could grow to like.

Ralof, who had been a little short with her - and, she supposed, she had been a little short with him, too - seemed to have eased off and they found their flow with each other again. Their senses of humour had always matched and they could bounce jokes off of each other like none other. The others had noticed, and were quite often in stitches because of it.

All in all, they were a happy bunch. It often kept Arik and Odahviing far enough from the forefront of her mind to allow her some sanity.

They were stopped for their midday meal on the peak of a cliff, looking out over a sweeping valley when an idea occurred to her.

_I should try and call him. See if I could forge the connect again and get some more information._

"Ralof?" She asked him, turning to where he was speaking with Nettle.

"Aye?"

"I want to try and call Odahviing again."

"Why?" His brow furrowed.

"We're alone enough that no one should hear my Shout." Fina stood up, tucking away the waterskin she'd been holding and swallowing her mouthful of dried meat. "It was when I called him the first time I got the vision. Maybe if I call him again, I could speak with him again?"

"If you think it's worth a try." He shrugged. "Better here than closer to civilization."

She nodded and took a few steps away from them all, mustering herself. When she was ready she closed her eyes.

" _ODAHVIING!_ "

Fina tried to call up the image of the cave again. Of Odahviing in chains, his wings staked down like a butterfly on display in a case - like one of Calixto's oddities.

She waited. And waited. And waited. After a few minutes, Quim's voice hesitantly called out.

"Is something supposed to happen?"

"Be quiet, you runt." Cathin replied in a harsh whisper.

"Fina?" Ralof was beside her, a hand on her arm.

_It should have happened by now. Why hasn't anything happened?_

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at him. Fina shivered and shook her head.

"It didn't work."

He frowned, giving her a gentle squeezed before he let go.

_What if it means he's dead?_

"I don't know why it didn't work this time."

Ralof shrugged. "Well, the Shout is just meant to call the dragon, isn't it? You said yourself the vision was a surprise. Perhaps it was a one-time occurrence."

"That must be it." Fina nodded and came back to the others, offering a hesitant smile to Quim and Nettle's stares.

"No luck, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry, Fina. You've got a team of experts on the case, anyway." Quim offered, grinning at her and shoving a whole hunk of meat into his mouth.

"Yes I do." She agreed, taking a shot of Dragon's Milk from Nettle.

**xxxxx**

The next morning, they found themselves in a small mining village to restock their supplies. Fina had only just started towards the general store with Ralof, when they heard the tell-tale screeching of a dragon. She spun towards the sound, in the same action whipping her bow off of her back.

" _Fina_." Ralof hissed quietly, stopping her with a vice-like grip. "We cannot give away our location and if you are here when that dragon falls, the rumour will spread like wildfire."

"But - "

"Fina, no."

He pulled her by the arm, gesturing to the others to follow, and dragged her away from the store, down the road and towards the edge of the village. As he did, the dragon swooped low, shooting a stream of fire at a nearby house and instantly setting it on fire.

"Help, please, help us!" A woman screamed. "My children are inside!"

Fina wrenched herself free from Ralof, taking several steps back towards the village and shooting two arrows at the dragon.

Confused, but following her lead, Quim readied him own bow and also took aim at the beast. They both hit it in the chest, drawing it's attention.

"We cannot!" Ralof yelled at them, turning. Guards were pouring out of a nearby building, yelling and readying their own weapons.

"Nettle, grab Quim!"

Nettle did as he was told, easily stopping the smaller man and pulling him away to where Talenok and Cathin were retreating from the village.

"Cowards!" An old woman called to them, pointing a gnarled finger. "Can't you see there are innocents here that need help?"

Fina ignored them all, aiming another arrow. The dragon had turned it's sights elsewhere, to the five or six guards that were now assaulting it with their feeble iron arrows and hunting bows.

Without even trying to reason with her, Ralof locked his arms around her, scooping her off the ground, bow and all, and turning away from the scene. He ducked behind a building, running at full speed.

Fina swore at him, kicking her legs and punching at his chest until finally he had to drop her.

"What is wrong with you!" She screamed at him, trying to push around him and back towards the village.

"We cannot risk being exposed for one dragon!" He said, clamping his hands over her arms and pushing her back.

"If I'm not there when that dragon falls, it will rise again! Do you want those people to die? Innocent people, Ralof!"

"Do you lose sight of our goal so easily? One dragon, one village, Fina - or Alduin and all of Tamriel?" He shook her roughly.

Fina was shaking, she was so angry with him, but his words hit her as if he'd used his fist and she shook him off, taking several steps back. She threw her bow to the ground, feeling not only herself enraged but also the roar of every dragon within her, too. Their fangs snapped against her ribs, bruising and cutting her until she felt as though she would scream with the agony of it.

"Fine!" She replied abruptly, pushing hair from her face and willing the dragons to calm. "Fine."

Fina took several deep breaths, keeping her back to him so he wouldn't see the state she was in.

" _Stiildus, zeymahi._ " She told them. " _Stiildus._ " They responded better to her when she spoke in their own language and seemed to calm a little. She bent and retrieved her bow, slinging it over her back. Still, though she could hear the screams from the village and the crackle of flames.

_I need to get out of here._

Without looking back at him, she started in the way the others had gone.

"Fina!" Ralof called, catching up with her. He touched her shoulder, but she jerked out of her grasp. He grunted, speeding up so he could swing in front of her, blocking her path. The sounds from the village were further away now but she still couldn't help but feel responsible for whatever destruction was happening there.

"I know this isn't easy." He said, moving the hair from her eyes so he could see her face in full. "We should have spoken of this earlier."

Fina sighed, shaking her head. "I know. I was foolish. Only, I cannot help but feel I am responsible."

Ralof nodded. "That is your personality, as ever. Taking on far more than you can possibly handle on your own." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed. "Do you remember when we were on the road to Darkwater and Balthor hurt his ankle so you insisted on carrying his pack for him?"

Despite herself, she half-smiled and bit her lip, nodding.

"And half way there you got that rock in your boot? But we were marching in formation so you couldn't stop to get it out. You marched for a full day with that damn rock in your boot and carrying two packs and you never once complained." Ralof laughed again. "That is one of the things I admire about you, Fina. And it is one of the things that makes you a fine leader."

As he finished, she could feel the fresh soul of the dragon racing for her.

"Oh sweet Talos." Fina groaned. "We're too close, Ralof. The soul!"

She took off at a run, zigzagging through the trees as quickly as she could, but it was no good. The soul met her regardless, soaking through his armour and into her flesh, making a home inside of her with the others. It filled her with anguish and she dropped to her knees, head falling to her hands as she wept with it.

_I've given us away. I should have run the second I heard the dragon. I should have run._

Ralof dropped onto the forest floor beside her, wrapping his arms around her. Fina leaned into him, letting him rub her back.

"I've given us away."

"Villagers are stupid. Chances are they won't realise what happened."

"You're lying to make me feel better."

"I'm not, the villagers really are stupid."

Fina laughed despite herself and wiped at her cheeks, gathering herself. She pulled away from Ralof.

"We had better make haste." He told her, and she nodded, letting him help her to her feet.

Together, they ran to catch up with the others who were waiting just off the road a ways down. None of them spoke, but by the grim looks on their faces it seemed they'd understood what had happened.

She watched the ground, not wanting to face any of them quite yet. Ralof nodded to Cathin, who, once again, took the lead and carried on.

Fina felt sick, and pressed a hand over her stomach, falling to the back beside Talenok and watching the prints her boots made in the snow.

"You look like you could use this." A soft rumbling tone sounded beside her and she glanced over to see a massive moss-coloured fist offering her a flask. She wondered at how Talenok could keep such a deep voice so quiet.

"Thank you." She smiled weakly at him and accepted it, taking several more swallows than she probably should have. When she went to return it, he shook his head, tusks jutting out as he frowned.

"Keep it."

**LJORN**

* * *

Tempest. The quiet before the storm. An apt description of the heavy silence that settled over Whiterun the morning they expected the attack of the Stormcloaks.

The alarm had been raised the night before, and shortly after that the city had sprung into action, sawn logs thrown up at strange angles and sharpened to fine points. Windows and doors boarded up. Woman and children sent to the lower levels of Dragonsreach for protection.

Ljorn had never seen the place in such a state of disarray. He and the other Companions had been instructed to lock up Jorrvaskr and stay there. They were not to leave, not to interfere. They were and ever would be, neutral.

Something about that didn't feel right to Ljorn. Shouldn't they be on the side of Whiterun? Shouldn't they be out there defending their city and it's walls? It's people?

Still, he knew it was the Harbinger's decision and so he did as he was told. They barred the doors and sat around the tables in the mead hall, staring at each other grimly. No one drank. No one ate. No one spoke.

It wasn't until they heard the first screams that anyone spoke. It was Farkas, who had been the most vocal that he thought they should be out helping the city guards.

"This is madness, Kodlak. See sense! Those are our friends!" He pounded the table with his fist.

Ljorn flinched, and Ria and Njada shifted uncomfortably beside him. All eyes turned to the Harbinger, who shook his head sadly.

"We must not be involved. It is not our battle and I will not risk any of you to it. The Circle has voted and we will stay here."

Farkas gritted his teeth, staring daggers. Vilkas rested his hand on his twin's shoulder, and the room fell quiet again.

Soon enough, they could hear more screaming. The cracking of wood, the clash of steel. They could smell the smoke of fire. Men pleading for their lives. Orders barked from frantic leaders.

"I don't know about you lot, but I'm not about to sit here and listen to this." Athis said, pushing back from the table and heading for the stairs. He disappeared down them, letting the door slam loudly behind him.

"I'm with him." Torvar got up and followed. Shortly after, Njada and Ria also stood.

"Will you come, Ljorn?" Ria asked him gently.

Ljorn looked around at the Circle members, their faces set and tight.

Eventually, he nodded and got up, following them below. Just as he was going down the stairs, he heard Farkas speak again.

"I will not hide in the ground while my friends die."

"You can't blame them, Farkas." Aela replied softly.

After what could have been hours or minutes of sitting and staring at a wall below, he could hear someone pounding at the door.

"Open up!" He heard them yelling. "It's Vignar!"

The others hurried back upstairs. Farkas and Vilkas were pulling away whatever they had blocking the door, away. When they finally wrenched the door open, they found Vignar standing behind it, dressed in full armour, blood smeared across his face and down his blade.

"It's done." He told them, out of breath.

Everyone blinked at him, looking out into the blinding light of day.

"The Stormcloaks have won, and it's done. Thank Talos, it's over!" Vignar grinned, and the look - bathed in red - made Ljorn feel sick.

**A R I K**

* * *

Two days passed, and Arik was comfortable enough with the Healing spell that he was able to hold it for a full minute. Enthir told him he'd only be able to heal a minor cut on himself, but it would be enough.

He had also learned a Lesser Ward, and Flames. The ward he could hold with one hand for thirty seconds, or with both hands for twenty seconds. He could hold them for a little longer if he tried - but he'd gotten a nose bleed from concentrating so hard so didn't push it.

Flames were the most difficult for him by far. He'd nearly burnt his hair off the first time he'd tried it, and his right eyebrow was nearly singed clear off. At most he was able to start a small camp-size fire, and that was only with luck and several small spurts of flame.

Enthir was an impatient if not thorough teacher, so it was lucky that Arik was taking naturally to restoration and didn't care much to learn destruction magic.

On the third day, Sundas, Enthir decided it was time to approach Faralda again. That way, he could sign up and would be able to attend classes first thing on Morndas.

Arik was apprehensive, but felt a lot more confident in his skills than he had the first time he'd spoken to the Altmer. He gathered his things and followed the Bosmer up the stone ramp, straight to Faralda.

Much to his dismay, Enthir carried on past them both as if he didn't even know Arik.

He drew up short, seeing the sly smile on her face as she hopped down from her spot and advanced towards him, crossing her arms.

"This should be good." Faralda said wickedly, looking him up and down in his new robes. "What have you got for me, little Nord?"

Arik decided to play up what little confidence he had. "What would you prefer, restoration or destruction?"

" _Oooohhh_!" She cooed. "Why don't your surprise me?"

"Alright." Arik lifted both of his palms, focusing on his breathing and touching at his magicka. He'd never tried this before, and although part of him was quite certain he was about to make a fool of himself, the other, larger, part was fueled by anger and adrenaline - a dangerous combination.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed with all his might, and much to his pleasant surprise, was able to conjure a healthy glow of healing energy in his left hand, and dim, flickering ball of flame in his right. He held it for as long as he could, and then closed his fists, extinguishing them.

Faralda snapped her mouth shut. "Are you sure you didn't know any magic a few days ago?"

"Certain."

She eyed him, and then sighed. "Very well then, up you go. Ask for Mirabelle Ervine, she will get you set up."

"Thank you." Arik passed her and started up the path to the college. He'd only just made it to the first corner however, when he ran headlong into some sort of invisible wall with a painful  _smack_. There was a horrible crunching noise, and a pain burst in his nose.

A tinkling, gleeful laugh came from behind him. "So you don't know how to recognise permanent wards yet?" Faralda said, coming up behind him.

Arik clutched his face, part of his mind taking him back to the tomb and the Draugr's blade across his eye. He shook his head, unable to look at her.

"Your little Healing spell should come in handy with that." She mused, casting a spell at the air before him. "Go on, the ward is gone now."

Faralda turned and walked back to her post, still giggling to herself and muttering about healers.

Arik looked at his hand, seeing it covered in blood, and cursed.

_Why didn't Enthir tell me about the ward?_

He continued to pinch at the bridge of his nose, but he could tell that it was broken. The whole front of his face was throbbing in pain. He held his other hand out, testing and finding the ward truly was gone.

Arik continued on his way, holding his hand out to ensure the same thing didn't happen again. He felt more foolish than he cared to admit - even to himself - and he was sure there was blood dripping down onto his new robes.

"What on Nirn happened to you, boy?" Enthir was waiting around the next corner, leaning against the stone with his arms folded.

"I didn't know about the ward."

"You mean to tell me she didn't take it down for you first?"

Arik shook his head.

"That was a nasty trick." Enthir spat. "Filthy Altmer bitch." He pulled a handkerchief from a pouch at his side and handed it to Arik. "Here, you're spouting blood like a fountain."

He took it gratefully and pressed it to his face, stemming the flow.

"It'll be good practise for your Healing, at least."

They made their way towards the main doors and once they got there, Enthir stopped, throwing his arms up and making a show of it.

"Welcome to the College of Winterhold!"

 


	30. Slime and Grit

 

**F I N A**

* * *

It was nearly sunset and the winds were raging bitterly, but Cathin had not allowed them to stop for the night yet.

Quim had downed so much Dragon's Milk in an attempt to stay warm that he was stumbling on flat ground and singing loudly in a slurred voice. They'd had to take his flask away, but at least he didn't seem to be feeling the cold.

"You might have to throw him over your shoulder." Ralof joked to Nettle, who looked half frozen himself.

"Wouldn' be th' firs' time." The Breton replied, trying to tug his fur cap - which was a size too small for his massive head - down over his ears.

Fina laughed, imagining him with the tiny half-Imperial draped over his back. It was a surprisingly easy image to conjure.

They were just coming up the back of a short - but steep - hill when suddenly Cathin threw her hands up, signalling for everyone to fall short. Quim walked straight into her back and then tumbled onto his ass, complaining loudly.

She spun around, gesturing for silence.

Fina hurried forwards, helping Quim up and covering his mouth with her hand.

"Quiet, you." She whispered in his ear.

"What is it, Cath?" Ralof asked as they all crouched, hidden behind the slope.

"Imperial camp." She replied. "It's large, but I could only see a handful of armed men on guard."

Fina felt her heart dive into her gut and mix uncomfortably with the contents of her stomach.

Ralof swore colourfully and moved around her, scrambling up the side of the hill so he could peek over himself. When he returned, he looked grim.

"It's a med camp." His eyes locked with Fina and they both knew what that meant.

Medical camps were where armies sent the majority of their wounded men to be seen to by healers. They were weak points - poorly guarded and full of mainly defenceless men.

"What are you thinking?" Fina asked the question, but she already knew. They both knew what was expected of them in situations like these in times of war - undercover or no.

Ralof gave her a look that showed he was asking her permission, and she gave a small nod. They had no choice.

"When you all agreed to this mission, you knew things would need to be done - things that were going to be difficult and would test your resolve. The reason you agreed was that we share a common enemy and that you are willing to do whatever it takes to stop that enemy and hurt them as they have hurt you." Ralof looked around at all of them.

Quim sniffed audibly and leaned into Fina. She looked over at him, and saw his eyes were shimmering as Ralof spoke. She felt a renewed anger at the Imperials for whatever they'd done to hurt him - and so early in his life, as well.

"What is it, Ralof? We don't need the damned speech." Cathin grumbled impatiently.

He smirked at her. "Fine, fine. It's Stormcloak code that if we should come across a med camp, it should be...taken care of."

They looked at each other uneasily.

"You want us to ambush a camp of wounded men." Talenok said it plainly and all eyes turned to him.

Ralof shifted uncomfortably.

"Aye." Fina responded for him, carefully disentangling herself from Quim.

"I cannot find the honour or pleasure of revenge in that. Those men," He pointed over the hill. "Have already been defeated."

She had never heard him speak so much and wasn't sure how to respond to his tone of calm logic. Fina looked to Ralof for help.

"I understand, Talenok. There are others too - soldiers standing guard who have not yet been wounded. Perhaps you could be the one to take care of them?"

Talenok's jaw clenched and he seemed to think this over, stormy eyes brushing back and forth over the ground near his feet. After a moment, he nodded.

"That is an acceptable compromise."

"Good." Ralof looked relieved. "And what about the rest of you?"

"M'not so picky as th' Orc." Nettle said with no lack of disdain, shooting a look at Talenok, who carefully avoided his eyes.

"I'm in." Cathin replied.

"Me too!" Quim threw in.

"Not you, little guy." Ralof shook his head. "You're too drunk. Fina, I want you to stay here with him and keep watch."

" _What_?" Fina shot at him.

"They may recognise you, and you're too high a priority to risk."

Fina was seething.  _He cannot continue to order me around in front of everyone. I am his superior and they should all know it._

To anger her further, he didn't even wait for her to respond, and simply carried on instructing the others on what he thought they should be doing.

_It's as if he thinks I'm a child tagging along for fun!_

She crossed her arms, standing behind him as he explained his plan.

"We'll wait until it's dark. Talenok and I will come up on either side of the camp…" He began to draw lines in the dirt on the ground to demonstrate. "...and will begin to take out guards. There aren't many of them, and we've done this dozens of times. It's cold, so they'll have all the men inside for the night. Cath, I want you and Nettle to start coming down the middle after us from opposite ends and pin the tents closed. Once Tal and I have finished the guards, we'll get torches - "

"You can't mean…" Cathin said, fingers coming up to touch on her scars.

Ralof glanced up at her, a grim look on his face. "I'm afraid so."

She winced, dropping her hand and shaking her head.

"Once we get the torches, we'll start lighting the tents. Most of the men won't be able to stand, any who can will be delayed by the tents being pinned shut. Any who  _do_  manage to get out, we will be waiting for." Ralof finished.

A pregnant silence hung over them and Cathin shuddered again. Even Nettle, who often fondly spoke of the ways he'd brutally murdered men and women looked ill.

"You're sure about this, Ray?" Cathin's voice was small.

He nodded. "It is a necessary evil."

"We won't soon forget this night." She whispered, staring at the ground. Fina watched her, seeing more emotions cross the woman's face in that one instant than she'd seen the entire time she'd known her.

"I have many nights like that." Fina whispered, looking across to Ralof, who met her eyes. They were both thinking the same things - Karthwasten, Darkwater, Helgen. A series of horrible days, weeks, months that they weren't ever going to forget.

She remembered now why it was they had needed each other so badly those nights on the road. Why they hadn't even bothered trying to sleep and instead had reached for each other. Those memories were so foggy to her now and she'd repressed the feeling of his touch along with the feeling of her blade sinking into Imperial flesh on the battle field.

A pain twisted in her chest as she realised perhaps the reason for whatever anger he held towards her, whatever resentment towards Arik, was due to the fact he had not counted her touch among the memories to be forgotten or repressed, but as something to be remembered and treasured between the blood and gore and dirt.

Fina broke her gaze away from him and turned to climb up the hill and scout the camp herself. There were eight tents in all, two rows of four. Each would likely hold six to eight men. One guard for each tent. Three guards sat around a fire pit in the centre of the tents, the rest were circulating around the outside, watching the perimeter.

She dropped back down, sliding to sit beside Quim, whose face looked a bit green.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, fetching him a waterskin from her pack. He accepted it, taking a few swallows.

"I'm no longer a Milk drinker."

"We'll see how long that lasts." Fina ruffled his hair and didn't complain when he sagged against her.

Talenok was sitting with his back to them all, but from her position, it seemed that he was speaking to himself - perhaps praying?

Cathin and Nettle were sharing some leftover rabbit meat from the night before and Ralof had taken the string off of his bow and was tucking it inside of his glove to ensure it was warm and supple for when he and Talenok went to take care of the guards.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Quim?" Fina asked, taking his trembling hands and freeing them from his gloves. Despite the alcohol telling him he wasn't cold, he felt like ice. She rubbed his hands and then cupped them, bringing them to her mouth.

He watched her through wide, teary eyes. It hurt her to see him like this - so confused and glazed over. It made him look even younger than normal.

"Got a little siss-sister, Lyanna."

" _Yol_."

A gust of warmth spread over him and she tucked his hands back inside his gloves. He smiled at her, flexing his fingers in wonder.

"S-stays with my Aunt in Falkreath. I send…" He hugged himself and tucked his hands under his armpits. "Send them money."

"You must miss her."

Quim nodded. "She won't talk, not after Mum. Not after what...s-she's seen."

Fina had meant to cheer him up, but the conversation was headed back downhill and the small happiness had dropped from his face. She put an arm around him and rubbed his back.

"I've only been to Falkreath the once. Maybe you could show me around one day? I'd love to meet her."

"Y-you would?"

"Of course." She nodded firmly, and the bright look she got in return was just as effective as  _yol_.

When it was finally dark, Ralof and Talenok took off to get into position. Cathin would start at the side closest to where Fina and Quim were hidden to block off the tents, and Nettle at the far side.

Fina poked her head up over the hill, but kept a grip on one of Quim's arms because he still didn't have his senses about him and she was worried he'd wander off. He'd taken to periodically moaning and trembling, and she had no doubt he'd be in quite a state tomorrow. It was a small mercy, though - it meant he didn't have to partake in the night's activities.

It wasn't long before the events started. Ralof was the first to strike. His arrow shot out and took the first guard before the others realised what was happening. Then Talenok. Then Ralof. By now, the other red-clad Imperial guards were rushing to see what was happening and all of them were congregating in the very centre.

 _Fools._ Fina thought desperately.

That was when Ralof and Talenok came into sight, Ralof with his axe and Talenok his dual swords, with their strange barbaric curves and green glinting Orcish metal. Although it was close combat, they finished the rest silently and from what she could tell, no one in the tents had stirred.

Cathin and Nettle started next, pinning the tent flaps in place with large stones and branches. They all met by the fire pit in the middle where Ralof had begun to light torches. Talenok fell back into the shadows, evidently unwilling to help with this part of the plan.

She had to say, she couldn't blame him; judging from his earlier speech and the fact he seemed to have been praying before dark, she would guess it was at least partially a religious decision.

Cathin started back towards the outer corner, torch in hand. But as she did - beautiful, scarred, face illuminated by the firelight - Fina could see nothing there but pure, unadulterated terror.

It was then that she knew it, in her gut.  _She isn't going to be able to do it. She knows what it is to be burnt alive. She has tasted their fate._

"Quim." Fina ducked down quickly, grabbing him by the shoulders. "You must stay right here and do not leave this spot, promise me."

"You leaving?"

"Yes, just for a moment. Promise me, Quim? You'll stay?"

He nodded, eyes swimming over her face. As if to show her, he plopped onto the ground and planted his fists in the dirt.

"Good lad." Fina darted up over the hill and towards Cathin, seeing her standing solitary, torch still in hand.

"What's all this?" She heard an astounded voice and stopped short, seeing a man emerging from the tent closest to Cathin, dressed in Imperial colours.

Fina didn't think, she simply pulled her bow from her back and shot an arrow at the man, hitting him in the throat. He toppled over just as Cathin spun to look at him. He clutched his throat as blood began to spill over his fingers.

Now they had trouble. The tent flap fluttered open, leaving both Cathin and Fina in full view of whoever was inside.

Fina dropped her bow and hurried forward, pushing the stunned Cathin out of the way and pinning the tent closed again. No one else seemed to have moved and she could still hear snoring from within the tent. She could also hear whimpering, crying, people having nightmares, and those too delirious or in pain to succumb to sleep at all.

_Talos give me strength._

"Quim is over the hill, wait with him." She barked to Cathin, who was holding the torch as far away from herself as she could manage. Fina snatched it from her, and with her other hand, drew her sword, finishing off the poor man with the arrow embedded in his neck.

Then she turned and began to light the corners of the tent.

The other tents were already ablaze save for one, and the first screams were beginning to echo back at her from the surrounding rocks and trees. The smell was the next worse thing. Thick and putrid, sticking to the inside of her throat and nose as she made her way to the last tent and lit it's corners.

A few men had escaped - some free of flame, some half covered in it and dancing an unnatural, surreal dance her mind was unable to fully comprehend.

Her body moved without her mind's permission, blade slicing and jabbing, helping Nettle and Ralof to prevent any of the Imperials from escaping.

In the end, when a deafening hush fell over them, and only the sound of crackling flame remained, Fina used Aura Whisper. She counted the red auras to only those in their party and one extra.

She found a young woman with no legs, her chest burnt, and body resting where she'd crawled behind a tent.

The woman stared up at Fina from her back, breath hissing coarsely from between a charred tongue and lips.

"When the war is over, this is what you will be remembered for." The woman told her.

When she died, it felt like when Fina killed a dragon, but without the glowing embrace of a new soul.

They found Cathin and Quim and left as soon as they could. They did not stop for the night, putting as much distance between themselves and their guilt as they possibly could.

No matter how far away they got, Fina could smell their burning bodies as they clung to her hair and armour, and hear their agonising screams echo through her bones.

**A R I K**

* * *

Arik looked beyond Enthir and took the College, unabashedly awestruck. It was even grander than he could have imagined - quite a match even for the Palace of the Kings.

"Alright, boy. Close your mouth." The Bosmer snapped, dropping his arms and grumbling. He turned around and headed to the main doors, but found his path blocked by a Breton woman half his size with short dark hair and an expression to match.

She crossed her arms and looked him up and down.

"Ah, Mirabelle. Just the woman."

"Enthir." Mirabelle responded flatly, eyes narrowed.

"New recruit here for you. Faralda just sent him up, but I'm afraid she neglected to warn him about the ward, so he's been damaged." Enthir informed her, stepping out of the way so Arik was made visible to her.

She zoned in on him, eyes sweeping up and down, taking in his bloody robes, eyepatch, and no doubt the 'glaring fact you're a Nord' as Enthir poetically put it.

"You're late." Mirabelle told him.

_Is no one here friendly?_

"I know, I apologise." Arik responded politely, averting his eye.

Enthir nodded to Arik and then excused himself, leaving him to the Breton's mercy. She sighed and shrugged.

"Very well, do you have the admittance fee?"

"Ah, yes - er, how much was that?"

"Four hundred, plus fifty for your College robes."

Arik fished the pouch from his robes and paid her in gemstones, to which she made no comment, but her brows rose so high he feared they may fly from her forehead.

"I'll arrange for the robes to be sent to your room by tomorrow morning. You will be expected to wear them to all classes, but may wear whatever you wish during free time, meals, and weekends." Mirabelle pocketed the gems and then gestured to a door behind him and to her right.

"I'll show you to your room in the Hall of Attainment, and then to the Hall of Elements where the majority of your classes will be held, and finally The Arcanaeum - the College's library."

Arik nodded as she spoke and followed her across the broad, snowy courtyard to the doors she'd mentioned first - to the Hall of Attainment.

"And, you might want to put some snow on your nose." She added.

On his way, he stooped and grabbed a handful of snow, using it first to clean away some of the blood and then to soothe the swelling. It felt amazing and painful all at once.

Inside, he found himself to be in the lower floor of what appeared to be a circular tower, judging by the hole in the ceiling which exposed another open floor above.

This room had several alcoves - the majority of which housed individual, semi-private bedrooms. One of them was a small common room, and another contained storage and the spiral steps up to the next floor.

There were three people besides Mirabelle and himself he could see - a male Khajit and a fellow Nord deep in conversation in the common room, and a Dunmer woman sitting in a chair in one of the bedrooms with her nose pressed into a book.

"This is where all of our new students stay." Mirabelle explained. "Those are some of them." She gestured across the room, but none of them seemed to take notice. "This will be your bed." She pointed to the one on their left, closest to the door.

Arik settled his pack beside the bed. "Thank you."

Mirabelle ignored the comment and moved back out into the main room. "The teachers and more experienced students sleep on the floor above, in the Hall of Countenance." Without another word, she turned and walked back out into the cold.

Arik scrambled to keep up, and followed her across towards the main doors. Just inside, they came face to face with the tallest Altmer man Arik had ever seen.

He stopped immediately, a thrill of dread spiking down his spine and immobilising him.

_No._

It was not the fact it was an Altmer that made Arik pause - no, he'd been expecting to be surrounded by elves at the College. It was the robes the man was wearing. Deep blue, gold trimmed, proudly shining with the diamond-shaped dragon of the Imperials.

_The same ones that Elenwen wore._

"Oh, excuse me, Ancano." Mirabelle said, stepping out of the way so the man could pass.

He nodded sharply, swinging by them, but not before his piercing yellow-green eyes could dig into Arik's very core.

"Come along...oh, what is your name?" She asked looking back over her shoulder at him.

"Arik."

"I apologise if I seem a little short, Arik. First week of classes is always...tedious."

"Of course."

Mirabelle nodded, and then continued on. "This is the door up to The Arcanaeum, and on the other side the door up to the Arch-Mage's Quarters. You will not be going up there." She gestured to each door in turn, but instead walked into the massive room straight ahead of them.

Benches lined the walls, but the main floor was bare, save for several large circular metal tiles on the floor bearing the striking eye-burst symbol of the College. An old man was pacing back and forth examining the tiles, his long white hair tied back at the top, stroking his beard absently.

"This is the Hall of Elements, and that is Tolfdir. He teaches the majority of classes here at the College."

Next, Mirabelle took him up to The Arcanaeum, which Arik immediately loved. It wasn't because the place was filled with books - as that was to be expected - but it was the atmosphere of the place which snared him. It was quiet, relaxed, orderly. The floor was lowered in the middle and there were several small tables, laden with assorted tomes and candles.

There were also pots and planters scattered everywhere, brimming with alchemical ingredients. Nightshade, deathbell, dragon's tongue, tundra cotton, lavender. The aroma from them was intoxicating and homey.

At the far end, at a broad wooden desk, sat an Orsimer. He was small for their race, with whitening hair and half of one of tusk missing. He looked up as they entered, setting aside his quill and frowning.

"This is Urag gro-Shub, keeper of The Arcanaeum." Mirabelle explained. "I'm just showing a new student around, Urag."

Urag studied Arik for a long moment. "What's your name?" He grunted.

"Arik."

"You're the one Esbern wrote about?"

"Yes." He nodded, and Mirabelle looked between the two of them.

Urag waved him forward, teeth grinding together audibly as he stared at Arik's face. "The old man told me about your eye. Nasty creatures, Draugr."

"They are." Arik agreed readily.

"I'm sure you can find your way back." Mirabelle said uncomfortably, excusing herself and heading back downstairs.

Urag pushed some papers away from himself and stood up from the desk, rounding it so he came to stand before Arik.

"Esbern told me you're a smart lad, but that you could use some extra help."

"I don't know much about magic. Certainly not as much as the other new students." Arik replied, watching as Urag strode over to a nearby shelf and started grabbing at some books.

"Sit yourself down." The Orsimer told him, pointing to one of the tables near the centre.

Arik sat gratefully, clearing some of the books away. Urag sat a pile down in front of him and then settled in the opposite chair.

"These books don't leave The Arcanaeum, do you understand?"

"Alright." He nodded, meeting the Orc's dark eyes. Urag stroked his white beard.

"Good. Any questions, let me know. When you finish those, I'll find you more."

Arik thought perhaps Urag would get up and go about his work after that, but instead he sat and watched him read. He didn't mind, really. He seemed to be a kinder and more patient companion than Enthir, to say the least.

**F I N A**

* * *

They had to stop a couple of hours before midday so that Quim could spew his guts up beside a fallen log. Nettle held him upright and Fina held back his hair, offering him water when he was able to take a sip.

In truth, she was glad of the excuse to stop and imagined the rest of them were as well.

"We can rest a minute, but if we keep this pace up, we'll reach the coast before nightfall and can sleep on the ship to Haafingar." Ralof told them, beating his arms against his chest to keep himself warm.

The others stared at Ralof, faces bearing the ghosts of the previous night. Cathin, despite not having killed a single man with her own hand, seemed to be taking it the worst.

Fina passed her waterskin to Nettle and left him to tend to Quim. She walked to Ralof and leaned in to speak quietly with him.

"I think we should give them time to rest. We can afford to wait and reach the coast tomorrow morning. Look at them, Ralof. They have killed, yes, but they are not used to carrying the burdens we do."

"If we stop now, it only gives them more time to dwell on it." He replied stiffly.

She glared up at him, eyes set.  _Still he defies me?_

"Cathin is still shaking in her boots. Quim can barely stand and Nettle does not have the strength to carry him. Are you suggesting we all start fueling ourselves on stamina potions?"

"If you mean to give me an order, Officer, give it."

Fina felt anger flare red hot in her chest and took a deep breath, stepping back from him.

"We'll stop here for two hours. Eat, sleep, whatever you wish. Then we will continue more slowly and stop for the night when Cathin sees fit." She told the others, daring Ralof to disagree. He didn't.

She stalked away from them, passing Cathin and Talenok and not stopping until she was sure she was out of earshot and had a large tree hiding her from their view.

The cold seeped into her as she slid down to the ground, hugging her legs to her chest and burying her face in her knees. Desperate emotions were locked in her chest, swelling within her throat until it was tight and no sound could make it past her lips.

 _Arik…_  She thought of him desperately, his fingers down her bare back, twisting into her hair. His kisses, the scent of him, the scratch of his rough chin against her neck and shoulder.  _What must he be doing now? I'm sure he is doing a wonderful job. Impressing all of his teachers and probably even himself. And what would he think of me now? Burning men alive and not even giving them a chance at a fair battle?_

She thought back to the woman, legs missing, staring up at her from the ground.  _This is what they will remember you for._

She could still smell them, hear their cries - half animal, half human. It seemed more vivid to her now than when it had actually been happening - like before it had only been a dream but now it was the reality.

Fina clutched her hands, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry." She murmured to them, seeing their faces as they tried to run past her, bodies blanketed in fear and flame. Young men and women only trying to live, trying to recover after fighting for what they had been brought up to believe.

Was there blood on her hands now? She glanced down at them but they were clean. White and pale like the snow, showing no signs of the night before save for the way they trembled. And the smell, ever the smell. Heavy and yellow, clinging to her skin like slime and grit.

_Stop it._

Fina sighed, ripped from her memories, and then jumped a little, hearing the crunching of boots on snow in her direction.

_Ralof._

He crouched in front of her, an apologetic smile on his lips.

"I should not question your authority."

"An apology? Have you been replaced by some sort of Dremora?"

Ralof chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I forget this is just as difficult for you, sometimes. You outrank me. It is not my place."

"Thank you." Fina smiled, but from the look in his eyes he had seen past it.

"We've seen some things together, you and I."

"Aye, that we have."

He nodded slowly and then stood, offering her his hands. She took them and let him pull her to her feet.

Ralof stopped, still gripping her and looking down where they touched.

"We did the right thing, didn't we?"

Fina pulled her hands free and shrugged. "Talos can decide what's right. We did what we had to."

Without another word, she walked back to the others.

**A R I K**

* * *

When he returned to the Hall of Attainment, his new robes were waiting for him. They were the same shape and build as the ones Enthir had given him, but were a paler blue and trimmed in a silvery-grey.

Arik turned and set them on the small dresser against the wall. He imagined now would be a good time to unpack. However, as he went to unpack, he found his bag was missing.

"You might want to be careful about leaving your things unattended." A voice came from the door and he turned.

The Nord he'd seen earlier stood behind him, holding the bag out and smiling brightly.

"Don't worry, I didn't take anything. But it's a good thing I got here first."

"Thanks." Arik replied hesitantly, accepting his pack and setting it on the bed.

"I was worried I'd be the only Nord here! I'm Onmund, by the way." He shook Arik's hand rather vigorously, to the point where he actually had to pry himself away and take a step back.

"Arik." He replied, returning the smile. "Do people steal things often around here?"

"Ah, I suspect mainly if you're a Nord. They haven't been the kindest to me...and well, judging by your - uh, nose…?"

"Oh! I'd forgotten. I must look horrible." Arik touched lightly at his nose, wondering if it could have been as bad as he thought - the pain had subsided considerably. "I should take care of it."

"I'll let you do that. I'm just across there," He pointed, "If you need anything."

"Right, thank you." He nodded, watching as Onmund made himself scarce.

"Made a new friend, I see?" Enthir peeked around the corner of the doorway, smirking.

"Something like that." Arik replied, brushing dried blood from the front of his robes.

"Come with me and I'll introduce you to someone who would love to fix that nose for you."

"Oh?"

Enthir gestured for him to follow, and so Arik walked with him, up the stairs and to the Hall of Countenance. Once he was there, the Bosmer flagged down an older Breton woman who was sitting on a bench and reading.

"Colette, my dear. This is the young man I was telling you about."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Enthir - I told you I'm not going to believe - ...Oh." She stopped mid sentence and her expression changed from accusatory to shocked.

"I was telling the truth. You're shocked, I know." He shot a look at Arik and winked. "Arik, meet Colette Marence, the College's resident expert on Restoration. Colette, Arik."

"Your nose." She stood up, dropping the book to the floor as if she'd never held it to begin with. She was across the room to him in two seconds and put her hands on Arik's shoulders, pushing herself up so they were face to face. "Broken, certainly. Several hours ago. Contact with a hard, flat surface."

Colette's nose was inches from his face as she inspected him, making Arik quite uncomfortable.

"Hold still." Colette's fingers flared with bright silver-gold light, and a warmth spread throughout Arik's face. Instantly, he could feel his nose return to normal, pain entirely erased. When she was done, she stepped back and made a noise of satisfaction. "Perfect!"

"Thank you!" Arik touched at his face, finding it to be completely unmarred, as if nothing had happened at all. "That was wonderful, truly."

Colette's face turned crimson and she looked down, clutching her hands before her and rocking on the balls of her feet. "Well…"

"Arik is here to study Restoration. I'm sure he'd be happy to spend as much time with you as possible." Enthir put in.

"Oh of course, of course!" Colette hooked Arik by the arm, dragging him away. "It's a much underappreciated art. Many around here laugh at it, until they get a cut or broken arm...or burn themselves learning a new Destruction spell!" She giggled, and Arik looked back at Enthir helplessly, seeing the elf doubled over with silent laughter.

Later, when Arik finally was able to pry himself away from Colette and return to his bed. The day was gone, it was late, and all he could think of was sleep. Unfortunately, what awaited him was not something that promoted rest.

While he had been gone, someone had decided to practise their Alteration magic on his bed...and turned it to solid stone.

Although it retained the same shape, down to the outline and pattern of his blankets and furs, it was grey, cold, and rough. Arik slung his pack down onto the floor and poked it, finding it just as hard as it looked.

_What am I doing here? I don't know where my home is, but I am sick for it. I imagine it is where Fina is, but only Kyne knows where that is._

Arik sunk into the chair on the other side of his bed and hung his head, already thoroughly exhausted.

_And my classes haven't even started yet._

 


	31. Alteration

**F I N A**

* * *

The next morning, Fina took the lead beside Cathin. The sky was a foreboding shade of dark grey, and the clouds were churning and unpleasant. It had already started to snow, but she knew it meant they were in for a blizzard. They would need to move quickly.

"How are you?" Fina asked her quietly, glancing back to see that the others were far enough behind not to hear.

Quim was looking better, but he was complaining about a headache and anytime he caught a whiff of Dragon's Milk he was nearly sick again.

Cathin looked at her, and Fina found it hard not to stare at the scars. They twisted her skin so unnaturally, as if it was made of clay and someone had molded it carelessly with their fingers and stained it with a horrible, cruel shade of red dye.

"I'm fine." Her response was tight, and her eyes went to the path before them again. The snow was quickly deepening. "We need to move more quickly, or we'll be buried and never reach the ships."

"Aye." Fina nodded. "I'll go back and speak with Ralof." She had been wanting more of a reaction from Cathin, but should have known the woman wouldn't want to open up to her.

She turned, meaning to fall back, but Cathin's fingers clamped around her wrist.

"Thank you, Fina. For what you did."

Fina smiled, twisting her arm so she could grip Cathin's wrist too, giving it a light squeeze. "Don't mention it." She was rewarded with nothing more than a small nod in return, but it was enough. She let go, and turned back to find Ralof.

"There's a blizzard coming, we need to hurry."

"We aren't far now." He didn't say it, but she could see in his face that he was thinking they should have done as he'd said and not stopped the night before. Fina ignored it. Either way, they would have run into trouble - there was no guarantee the others could have even made it without risking their health. No, she stood by her decision.

The storm hit when they were an hour's walk from the coast. The snow was so thick in the wind that Fina could barely see her hand in front of her face. They had to stop and tie themselves together so no one would be lost, and even with that precaution, they had no true way of telling if they were still headed in the right direction.

Cathin's navigational prowess was no good when she couldn't even see a foot ahead of herself.

Fina could never remember being so cold in her entire life.

It turned out, however, that luck - or some other power - was on their side, and they managed to reached the water's edge within two hours. They were another hours walk off from the harbour, but at least they were able to find their way without freezing to death.

They stumbled upon the docks and Quim flopped to his knees, bringing Nettle and Ralof with him by the ropes tying them together.

He pressed his chattering lips to the wood and cried out with joy.

"I am never taking work in The Pale again!" He declared, ignoring Nettle who was swearing at him and trying to untangle himself from the ropes.

"Ge' up ye' damn wee -"

Ralof chuckled and Fina and Cathin went around to untie everyone. The handful of grim-faced sailors eyed them warily as they righted themselves, and when they were ready, Ralof approached one of them to seek passage.

When they'd hired a ship - a small, wretched looking vessel, that'd been patched so many times it was impossible to tell what was original ship and what was repair - they boarded and huddled together beneath the small half-deck.

The winds were vicious, so much so that they'd had to agree to pay the man extra just so that he'd leave without delay.

"Is that wise?" Fina whispered to Cathin, as they sat perched on empty crates, hands cupped around flasks of Dragon's Milk. "To take off with the winds so high?"

"Likely not." Cathin replied stiffly, grimacing as she took a swallow of the drink. She rarely touched it, but with their current situation it seemed she found it an appropriate time. "But it doesn't mean danger for us, unless the winds change - which I can't see them doing."

"If not for us, then who?"

She shrugged. " _We_ will arrive in one piece, but I can't say the same for the ship."

Fina wished she hadn't asked.

As they reached the open waters, the ship began to jolt dangerously, tossing them all off of the wooden crates they sat on until they sat pressed against the wall, arms linked.

Fina gritted her teeth, wondering for umpteenth time how it was her life had taken this turn.

Sea water sloshed over the side of the deck, soaking them through and coating everything in sight, making it slick and slippery and cold. Snow and sleet were whipped by the wind, and it wasn't long before they were all frozen in a thin layer of ice.

"I'm moving to Elsweyr after this!" Quim shouted, teeth chattering. His hands were tucked under his armpits, and his lips were blue. "Giant cats or no!"

"Jus' migh' join ye'." Nettle grunted back, tugging at his fur cap, only to have it whipped off of his head by the wind. It was blown overboard and he cursed, watching it go. Just then, a massive wave rolled towards them, rising so high it cleared the wall they hid behind and struck them, knocking them over with a giant splash and throwing them against each.

Fina cried out, body screaming in shock as the pain of a dozen ice-cold knives seemed to be stabbing her body at once. A hand grabbed her own and she opened her eyes to see Ralof had taken hold of her. She shook her head, shaking wet hair from her eyes.

Nettle and Talenok scrambled to secure their now-floating packs - they were ankle-deep in water.

"This is madness!" Ralof called to the Captain, who yelled something, back but his words were lost in the wind.

"We aren't far now, but he's bringing us too close to those rocks!" Cathin cried out, hurrying up towards the helm and shouting at the Captain.

"Cathin said there was a good chance we'd be shipwrecked." Fina told Ralof, knowing now that that was very likely the case.

" _What?_ "

"Aye, she said the ship wouldn't make it, not in this weather and in this repair."

"That would've been good to know!" He replied angrily, reaching up to yank at his hair.

"You should've asked her!" Fina replied, tugging her pack on. She clawed her way along the side to Quim, Nettle, and Talenok. "Strap your packs on."

They gave her a curious look but did as she said. When she looked back to Cathin, she could see that she'd shoved the poor Captain out of the way and had taken over the helm herself. She was spinning it crazily, loose hair whipping in the wind like a battle flag.

Fina had never seen such a beautiful, fierce sight as that. Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating the whole scene and it felt like she was witnessing something from legend.

"Come on." Fina locked arms with Quim and lead them all up towards Cathin, trying desperately to keep on her feet despite the churning of the ship and the gusts of relentless wind. She gestured for Ralof to follow as well.

Cathin had been right - the Captain had taken them precariously close to the rocks and although it was somewhat comforting to see they were within sight of the shore, it seemed inevitable they were going to crash.

"What do we do, Cathin?"

"Pray." She replied in a strained voiced, fighting against the creaking wood of the wheel as she fought it for control of the vessel.

Quim and Nettle exchanged a look.

"Do we abandon ship?" Ralof asked, casting a glance to the Captain who was running about the deck and gathering his possessions in his arms.

"Fool!" Cathin barked at the man. "No, that would have only been necessary if that blathering imbecile had been left in charge another minute. I'll see we reach shore in one piece."

And so she did.

It was rough, to be sure, and by the time they docked the ship was half filled with water and missing several planks of wood, but they were all alive, if not half frozen and waterlogged.

"You shouldn't be able to call yourself Captain!" Cathin berated the man. "We're not giving you a single septim, you cretin!" She spat. "You're lucky I'm leaving you with your head in tact... _both of them_. Although, honestly, I'm not even convinced you  _have_  two!"

The man cowered before her, eyes locked to the side of her face that was covered in scars. Cathin shoved him in the chest and sent him sprawling backwards. He tried to keep his footing but it was impossible on the slippery surface of the ship's deck and he fell backwards, landing flat on his back with a  _crack_.

Cathin followed the rest of them off of the ship onto dry land, wringing her hair out and muttering to herself grumpily. If she wasn't so miserable from their current state, Fina would have laughed.

They had docked outside of the Solitude Lighthouse. Close enough that ships would travel there regularly, but far enough from the city that they could pass through unnoticed.

"I've got a safehouse lined up." Ralof told her in an undertone as they headed away from the docks and up the road. "There's a contact of ours, owns a mill not far from here. They've agreed to shelter us for a night."

Fina nodded. "No chance of a bath?"

"I'm afraid that's a luxury none of us will receive for a long while."

"Not even for the Orc?" Quim whined. "He smells like a dead pig."

Ralof chuckled, shaking his head.

Fina glanced back at Talenok, but, as ever, the Orsimer's face was unreadable.

**A R I K**

* * *

The next morning, Arik was awoken by girlish giggling. He jolted upright, and then winced, finding his back and neck stiff from his night in the chair.

He looked towards the laughter, and found the Dunmer girl standing there that he'd seen reading in her room the day before. A fellow student.

"Someone doesn't like you." She said, pointing at his bed.

"I guess not." He replied. "I'm not late, am I?"

"Oh, no. I'm an early riser." She stepped into the room and held out her hand. "I'm Brelyna Maryon."

"Arik." He stood up and shook her hand.

"So who's bad side are you on already?"

"I wish I knew." Arik shrugged.

"You know...I do study Alteration magic myself. I could help you out if you wanted."

"You could?"

"If you'd agree to help me in return." She grinned at him, clasping her hands.

Arik felt any relief he'd felt at the prospect of his bed being returned to normal, drop away. "Help with what, exactly?"

"Oh, nothing major. Just, ah…" Brelyna stepped further into his room. "I've got this spell I've been working on. It's harmless, really. I just need a willing subject to practise it on."

"What sort of spell?"

"It will temporarily alter the colour of your robes."

 _Sounds harmless enough._ "That's it? And then you'll change my bed back?"

"That's it."

"That sounds fair."

"Great!" Brelyna lifted her hands, and two orbs of pale blue light appeared between them. Her face screwed in concentration, and she licked her lips. Suddenly, the ball of light shot towards him.

Arik staggered backwards a step as it hit him, and the brightness of it flashed before his eye. When he could see again, there was something curiously different about his vision...it was as if he was seeing everything through a piece of green glass.

"Oh...oh dear." Brelyna covered her mouth, a look of horror on her face.

"What is it, what happened?" Arik looked around wildly. "Why is everything green?"

"Has your vision gone green too?"

"What do you mean,  _too_?"

"I'm so sorry, I'm sure it will wear off soon!"

"What is the…" The Khajit student came up behind them, his tail flicking curiously from side to side. He reached up to twirl at his whiskers, a mischievous glint in his eye. "J'zargo has never seen a Nord with green skin before."

"You turned my  _skin_  green?" Arik felt ill and looked down at his hands, but of course with his vision green, he couldn't tell the difference.

"Like I said, it should wear off in a few hours…"

"A few hours? You mean I have to go to class like this? Why can't you change it back?"

Brelyna looked flustered and shook her head, glancing at J'zargo who was chuckling to himself.

"I can't, not yet."

Arik took a deep breath and pressed a hand to his brow, trying to keep his temper in check. How was he supposed to go to class with green skin?

_As if I wasn't already enough of a joke to the people here._

"I can fix your bed, though!" Brelyna put in hopefully, turning to it and gathering her blue light again. She did as she said - returning it to it's normal plush state - but it did little to lift his spirits.

"Thank you." Arik said stiffly, turning away from them.

"What on Nirn have you done to Arik?" Onmund had appeared, too.  _Great._

"J'zargo thinks it would be best not to ask." The Khajit pulled Onmund away by the arm, and Brelyna followed them, leaving Arik alone.

Arik sat on the edge of the bed, working carefully to clear his mind of any thoughts and sinking himself into a state of meditation. He had been so close to breaking out in anger, and that was something he wouldn't allow himself to succumb to.

_Kyne, guide me through these troubled times. Give me strength._

Onmund came to get him when it was time for their first class of the day.

"She did quite a number on you, didn't she? I'd never let her practise on  _me_  with any type of Alteration, no chance." He chattered on.

"It won't happen again." Arik replied with a sigh, following him out into the cold.

"Oh - well. Hah. Of course not." Onmund laughed self consciously. "Once bitten, and all that."

"Right." Just before the main doors, Arik took him by the arm and pulled up short. "Honestly, how bad is it?"

The Nord look him up and down, and then shook his head, smiling nervously. "You and Ancano would match nicely."

"Excellent. I guess we'd better get this over with."

They pushed open the main doors and walked inside. Brelyna was waiting just inside.

"Could I have a quick word?" She asked.

Arik frowned at her. "Now?"

"It'll only take a moment."

"Alright." He nodded to Onmund, who headed on into the Hall of Elements without him.

"I would be very appreciative if you didn't mention this to anyone." The elf whispered, gesturing to his face.

"Won't it be obvious?"

"Well, yes." She looked over her shoulder, checking they were still alone and then leaned in even closer. "But no one necessarily needs to know  _who_  cast the spell on you."

Arik grimaced. "Why should I keep it a secret?"

"It isn't the first time it's happened."

" _It's not_?"

"I'm sorry, Arik. I really thought I had it that time." Brelyna bit her lip. "Please, they could kick me out."

"Fine." He took a step back from her, feeling the frustration build within himself again. All he wanted to do was study magic here and mind his own business, but it seemed like everything was working against him. "Fine, just…Just stay away from me."

Inside the Hall of Elements the other students had gathered in a circle around Tolfdir. Arik stood back a bit from the others, hoping desperately that even just for today he could be out of the way and his unusual state would go unnoticed.

"Today, students, we will be learning about two handed wards." The old man was saying. He looked around at them, waiting as the last few stragglers filed in. Brelyna was the last of them.

There were a few students Arik didn't recognise. Three more males - two Altmer twins and a Breton - and a pair of girls, one Breton and one Bosmer. The girls couldn't seem to stop giggling and pointing at the Altmer twins who were completely ignoring them.

Then, of course, there were Onmund and J'zargo. Much to his displeasure, Faralda was also standing beside Tolfdir and it appeared she was assisting with the class.

"I saved a place for you, Arik." Onmund whispered, gesturing for him to come forward.

"Yes, come on, don't be shy." Tolfdir said, not unkindly. "Hurry in, Brelyna. And who is this, a new student?" The old man leaned forward, squinting at Arik who wanted nothing more than to turn and bolt away.

"Oh my, how curious. Have you got some Orsimer blood, my boy? Your skin is such a curious green colour…"

"No, sir." Arik replied, glancing nervously at Faralda who burst out laughing as she saw him.

"What is it, why are you laughing?" Tolfdir looked at the High Elf, who reined herself in and had a slim hand pressed over her lips.

"It seems our newest student has been dabbling in Alteration magic." She informed him, quite pleased with herself.

"Is that true…?"

"Arik, sir. And no, not exactly. The spell was cast on me. I don't know any Alteration magic myself."

"On you? Who would have done such a thing?"

"I don't know, sir. I imagine it was the same person who turned my bed to stone last night." As uncomfortable as lying normally made Arik, this one wasn't that bad - someone had meant him harm using Alteration magic. What did it matter if he threw in the green skin along with it?

"Well, we can't have that. Stay after class, young man, and we will see what can be done."

"Thank you." Arik stepped back into the circle beside Onmund. The look of displeasure on Faralda's face was just about enough to make up for his embarrassment.

**F I N A**

* * *

They arrived at the mill just after sundown and were greeted by an elderly couple and their only son.

"You'll be stayin' in the barn tonight, but there's a pit in t' middle so's y' can 'ave a fire." The boy told them. He looked them up and down, taking in their condition and then piling extra blankets into Nettle's arms.

Even after an hour long walk, they were still soaking wet and, not only that, but they had begun to chafe after trekking so long in their damp states.

The barn was small, and lined with barrels of salted fish, giving it a foul scent, but they were hardly in a position to be complaining.

"Help yourselves t' what's in t' barrels n' there's wine in them chests, there." He gestured, hanging a lantern on a peg just inside the door. "I'll come for y' in t' mornin'."

"You have our thanks, friend." Ralof said, shaking the boy's hand. Once he'd closed the door behind him, he spoke again with a sense of calm finality. "There's no way around it, I need to get out these wet clothes."

"We all do." Cathin replied, taking one of the blankets from Nettle's arms. She turned her back on them and set the blanket on one of the barrels. She dropped her gauntlets, and then followed her pack, weapons, breastplate…

Fina felt her mouth drop open and they all stared as Cathin stripped completely naked, her moonstone-pale body glowing in the lamplight. It was finely toned, and her muscles rippled invitingly as she bent a little to slip her smallclothes down over her wide hips.

"Need any help there, Cath?" Nettle asked her suggestively, a rich growl in his throat. Fina cringed and snapped back to reality. Finally, she managed to tear her eyes away.

"Gentlemen, honestly." Fina snapped, glad they were all still staring so intently that they hadn't noticed she had been as well. Well, all of them except for Quim...who was staring at Nettle with an odd expression on his face. Even Talenok had been entirely transfixed by the Nordic beauty.

"It's fine, Fina." Cathin called over her shoulder, shaking her long hair out and then wrapping the blanket around herself. "They don't have anything to offer that I'm interested in, anyway. They can look all they want, it won't make any difference."

"Blasted tease." Nettle grunted, finally looking away and beginning to loosen the straps of his own armour.

Quim looked down, a redness blossoming across his cheeks.

Ralof shrugged, winking at Fina as he, too started to undress.

"Shameless, the lot of you." Fina groaned, taking one of the blankets herself and retreating behind a pair of barrels. She ducked down, slipping out of her cold and salt-sticky armour away from prying eyes.

When she reemerged, she found everyone had strung their armour out to dry and were huddled around in the centre of the barn, looking a strange bunch indeed with nothing on but their matching brown rough-spun blankets.

"Get this fire going, will you, Fina? We're freezing." Quim whined, patting the empty spot next to him.

She laughed, settling herself between him and Ralof and keeping a tight grip on her blanket.

" _Yol!_ " Fina Shouted into the small firepit, and then leaned back, out of the way as the fire blazed to life before them. "Well, who grabbed the wine?"

No one responded.

"Someone had better get it." Quim complained. "And it's not going to be me."

"Go, Orc." Nettle grunted, jabbing a finger at Talenok.

Talenok looked at him and then gave a tiny shrug, slowly rising to his feet. As he did, Nettle gave a rough tug to his blanket, and it came free, leaving the Orsimer entirely naked.

Quim, Nettle, and Ralof broke out laughing immediately, pointing. Even Cathin cracked a smile and chuckled, but had the good grace to look away.

"I tol' ye'. I bloody, tol' ye'!" Nettle nearly keeled over sideways he was laughing so hard and clutching his gut.

"I didn't believe you, but damn it, you filthy Breton scum, if you weren't right!" Ralof grinned.

Talenok's mouth fell open and a look of complete and utter horror crossed his face. He cupped his privates, taking a step back from the fire. Still, he didn't make a sound. He bent and snatched the blanket from the ground and pulled it around himself.

"It is Orsimer tradition." He said uncertainly, and Fina was sure she could see some redness on his cheeks.

When the laughter didn't let up, he turned and fled the barn.

"What, what is it?" She asked them.

It was clear that the men wouldn't recover anytime soon, and so it was Cathin who replied.

"They cut a flap of skin off. When male Orcs are born." She gestured to her loins, shrugging. "As he said, it is a tradition of their kind...but it does seem barbaric."

"Makes it look like an unripe tomato. All green and exposed like that." Quim said, giggling, and it set them all off again.

"You shouldn't laugh at him for it." Fina snapped at them, feeling sick. "You're all cruel."

"Aw, don't be like that, Fina." Quim said, giving her arm a playful push. "He doesn't care anyway, he never gets angry."

"Didn't you see his face, Quim?" She shot back, not at all cheered by his comments. "And since when is anger the only sign of taking offense?"

 _Like Arik._  She thought.  _I've only seen anger in him once, and he has had plenty of cause for it. No, this isn't right._

Ralof and Nettle had quieted and were staring at her. Ralof, with some anger in his expression. She met him with an equal edge, eyes hard.

"You should know better. All of you should." Fina stood up and walked to the door, tugging it open and then slamming it shut behind her.

She found Talenok a short ways away, sitting on the steep wooden ramp leading up to the saw and pile of logs waiting their turn to be cut into boards.

"May I?" She gestured to the place beside him, and when he nodded, Fina settled beside him. Truth be told, she had no idea what to say to him, and so she ended up sitting in silence, picking at the frayed edge of her blanket.

"I am sorry if you find some of our traditions...disturbing." Talenok said formally, breaking the quiet.

Fina looked up at him in alarm. "You don't have to apologise for that!"

He shrugged, staring at his hands. He was twisting a silver ring absently on one of his fingers.

"Besides," She added with a laugh. "I'm sure you find some of our Nordic traditions strange, too. We must seem like the barbaric ones to you."

"That is true." He conceded, glancing at her. She was overjoyed to find a small smile fighting his lips for dominance over his tusks.

"Talenok?"

"Yes?"

"How is it you always keep your temper? Even when they are so cruel?"

"I grew up with a brother." The Orsimer shrugged his enormous shoulders again. He spoke slowly, his deep voice rumbling.

"Older, or younger?"

"Twin."

"Ahh. Identical?"

"Only as far as appearance." His hands balled into fists for a moment, and Fina wondered if she had upset him. Talenok sighed. "He had enough anger for both of us."

Fina decided to leave the topic at that, and did not push him for more. She stared out into the night. Around them, fireflies flitted like ground-tied stars and the wind whispered through the tall grasses like words between lost lovers.

The door to the barn opened and closed and Ralof picked his way across the grass and over to them. He held a bottle of wine in his hands and an apologetic smile on his face.

"I've got a peace offering." He held the bottle out. Fina took it from him, but didn't return his smile.

"This isn't a peace offering, the wine was for all of us."

Ralof sighed and scratched his head. "You were right, what you said inside. It was wrong of us to mock Talenok for his traditions."

"Who is it you're apologising to, Ralof?" Fina snapped, standing up and walking down the ramp towards him. "It shouldn't be me."

As she got closer, she stopped and glared at him. "Is he not your friend? Has he not protected you and your Jarl, your  _King_ , once this war is over?"

Ralof had the good sense to look ashamed, and he bowed his head, nodding. "You're right, of course you're right." He said quietly.

"Good. Now, make your peace." She thrust the bottle of wine back into his hands and gave him a pat on the arm, winking.

He smiled, realising she had at least forgiven him, and walked past her to sit down beside Talenok.

Fina turned to look back at the two of them, catching the first words of Ralof's apology.

Satisfied, she walked back to the barn to turn in for the night with the others.

 


	32. Sorrowfall Den

**F I N A**

* * *

In the morning, she awoke to two distinctive sounds - snoring, and crying. The snoring, once she rolled over to check, was quite obviously coming from two bodies - Talenok and Ralof. The crying, from Quim.

He was still asleep, tossing back and forth in his blanket, wet face stuck with bright orange curls. There was a name on his lips, as his mouth opened and closed in soundless agony.

"Mama." He moaned, fists clenching and unclenching.

Fina felt her chest constrict with the pain of seeing him like that, and she sat up, meaning to go to him. A hand strayed to her arm and she looked to it's owner, finding Cathin, a finger pressed to her lips.

 _No._  She mouthed, nodding back to Quim.

Fina looked back, and could see Nettle had woken across the room and was reaching out to the younger boy, gently clasping his shoulders and giving him a little shake.

"Quim," Nettle whispered, brushing back some sweat-damp hair from his brow. "Naught bu' a dream, lad."

Quim opened his eyes and blinked up at Nettle, hands shooting up to grip the Breton's biceps tightly.

"Nettle?"

"Yer alright." Nettle replied calmly, patting the side of Quim's face and nodding.

"It was the same one. I can't stand it, Nettle, I can't. If I have to see it again, I'm worried I'll scratch my own eyes out." Quim's voice quivered as he said it, and his jaw trembled with the tell-tale signs he was on the verge of tears again.

"I know, lad. I know." Nettle sighed and then hoisted Quim up, pulling him into his arms and letting him cry on his shoulder.

Cathin laid back down beside her, and pushed at Fina, too. Catching on, Fina laid back down, giving the two of them privacy.

"They've travelled together longer than any of us." Cathin murmured to her, when Fina rolled to look at her. "Since Quim was fifteen years old. He took him under his wing."

"His mother?"

"She left Cyrodiil after the war, that's true. But it's more like  _fled_. She was a criminal. When they found her in Skyrim...well, the execution was nasty and public. Both of them saw it - him and his little sister. He blames himself for not stopping it, but he was only a child."

Fina shook her head, horrified. "Ralof told me you all had reasons to hate the Empire."

Cathin's fingers strayed to her scars, smoothing over the rough red skin. "He wasn't lying." She whispered, and then clutched her blanket around herself, standing up to retrieve her now-dry armour and get dressed.

When the others were awake and Quim was his usual happy self again, they assembled to discuss their plans.

"Quim, I want you to head into Solitude and find out what you can about Elenwen. I want to know where she's been seen, who she's been with, and what she's been doing. Also find out about nearby caves - have there been any usual shipments lately, rumours of dragons or unusual noises? You know what to look for. And of course, find out what you can about our progress in the war." Ralof started, still fastening the buckle on his trousers.

Fina forced herself to pry her eyes away from his hands, up and off of the plains of sparse blonde hair covering the tense lines of rigid muscle in his chest, and to his face. Much to her disgrace, he had noticed the line of her eyes and quirked a smile at her. She rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms.

_Of course he had to wait to get dressed until we were all assembled and staring at him._

Apparently Cathin was sharing her thoughts. "We've all got muscles, Ralof. Just put your damn armour on."

"Mine'r better'n 'is anyhow." Nettle put in begrudgingly, glancing at Cathin.

"We could all strip down again and compare." Quim suggested, unbuckling the first straps of his leather armour.

Talenok looked down and sidestepped away, clearly not keen to have a repeat of the previous night.

"That is not necessary." Cathin replied darkly, resting a hand on her forehead. "Let's just listen to Ralof and  _keep our clothes on_."

Nettle, who had been all for taking his clothes off again, was already halfway out of his top again and grunted in disappointment. "She's no fun."

"She's right, Nettle. We've got work to do." Ralof replied, shaking his head and securing the last ties of his armour. "Anyway, as I said, Quim will be heading into Solitude. The rest of us will be scouting the area for caves. We'll meet back here before sundown and find somewhere to set up camp for the night."

"Yes, sir." Quim saluted to him and Ralof waved him off with a chuckle.

"Fina, can we talk for a second?" Ralof asked, steering her away with a hand on the small of her back.

He stopped a short ways away, his back to the others. "Do you want to try and call your dragon again, now that we're closer?"

Fina, caught off guard by the request, felt a wave of dread bubble uncomfortably in her stomach. She hugged herself and looked beyond him, back to the others. Cathin was helping Quim tie back his mass of curls so he could fit them within a cap for his trip to the city. Bits of it kept springing back out, no matter how hard they tried, and the both of them were in stitches over it.

"Fina?" Ralof put his hands on her shoulders, and she finally looked at him.

"Sorry." She swallowed. "Aye, I'll try again."

"Good." He squeezed her shoulders and then she stepped away, turning and walking back to speak with Talenok and Cathin.

Nettle was seeing Quim off, and the archer turned to wave to Fina, too. She lifted her hand and waved back, watching as he lifted his hood and started off towards the city.

Fina took a deep breath and then headed off on her own, following the path of the river that the mill sat on. Once everyone was out of sight and the only thing she could hear was the rush of water, she sat down on a rock and closed her eyes.

This time, she decided to try and find her way into the same state of meditation Arngeir had taught her. She cleared her mind, taking deep breath after deep breath.

It was no use - all she could see were images. Waking up next to Arik and seeing his slow, sleepy smile. Ralof, grinning as he caught her eyes on his naked chest. Quim, waking from a nightmare of his mother's death replaying over in his mind.

Fina sighed and simply sat, listening.

" _Odahviing!_ " She kept it quieter this time, wary of their proximity to Solitude and to the very core of their enemies defenses.

She waited, listening to the birds stir and take flight at the sound of her Voice.

_Nothing._

Fina reached up to touch her head, massaging at her temples. She had a horrible feeling.

 _What if I can't reach him because he's dead?_ It wasn't the first time she'd thought it.

Pushing the thought from her mind, she stood up and walked back. Ralof looked at her hopefully, but she shook her head.

_We can only hope Quim finds information of use to us._

They spent the day poking around the Haafingar countryside, working off of a rough, hand drawn map. They found two caves, the first of which was empty save for the nasty troll that Nettle and Cathin felled with a practised skill.

The second was larger and guarded by a single Imperial soldier, who was easily distracted when they sent Nettle running through the woods, shouting insults at the man's bearded mother - which was apparently quite a tender topic.

While the guard took chase of the Breton hooligan, Cathin and Fina snuck inside for a better look while Ralof and Talenok stood guard outside.

Inside, it appeared to be mostly weapons and food supplies for the army.

"I wish we could destroy it." Cathin muttered, digging through a pile of finely fletched steel arrows.

"Aye." Fina agreed, sighing and heading straight towards the back, searching for any sort of secret doors or switches in the wall that might reveal a broader chamber beyond, as it was clear Odahviing wasn't kept here. "See if you can find any maps or letters or documents."

Cathin hummed her assent and kicked open a chest, bending to sift through it.

Finding nothing along the walls, Fina turned to the shelves, picking among the smaller objects and searching for anything that looked like a scroll or parchment.

Instead, what she found made her stop in her tracks. Her pulse beat so fiercely in her ears it was deafening.

Sitting atop one of the shelves, carefully perched on a wooden stand, was a Dwemer rod. Deep bronze, with four sharp points that held a garnet between them. Exactly the same as the one she had seen Odahviing being tortured with in her mind's eye when Nettle had mentioned them on one of the first days of their journey.

At the time, she thought she had been imagining things...but at seeing this…

Fina reached out, fingers brushing the leather bound handle of the device.

"We've got to go!" Ralof shouted from the entrance. She jumped back, hands snapping to her sides.

Cathin stood up from the chest, tucking a folded paper into her shirt. Together, they raced for the entrance and followed Ralof and Talenok back into the safety of the trees.

No sooner were they hidden, than the guard came back into view, mumbling to himself about Breton scum.

Fina leaned back against a tree, trying to catch her breath.

"What did you find?" Ralof asked, crouching down. Nettle had circled back and was cutting quietly back towards them, greatsword balanced over his shoulders and broad grin on his face.

"Nothing. Weapons, supplies." Fina half-lied, shaking her head. "Did you find anything, Cathin?"

Cathin pulled the folded paper out, opening it and passing it to her. "It's an Imperial map of Haafingar. From what I could see, it even has caves marked on it."

"Good find, Cath!" Ralof clapped her on the shoulder and then leaned over Fina to look at it with her.

"Tomorrow, we can start in earnest." He declared, nodding his approval.

 _At least his spirits are high._  Fina thought, trying not to let her mind dwell on the worst.  _If they have those Dwemer rods, it means I didn't imagine it. If I didn't imagine it, why can't I reach him?_

**A R I K**

* * *

Two weeks passed. He minded his own business, attended his classes, spent the majority of his meal breaks in The Arcanaeum with Urag's silent company, and worked with his tactless Bosmer tutor in the evenings.

Arik began to nearly enjoy the steady routine his life at the College had developed, and he was happy with the progress he was making. Still, he was the target of numerous pranks, - Frost Troll dung in his pillow, an emetic potion dropped into his ale at dinner ("J'zargo thought Nords were better able to hold their drink." The Khajit had commented with an amused purr.), stealing his College robes, using Alteration magic to make the pages of his books blank - and he'd begun to feel the overwhelming shadow of a disapproving Altmer looming over him.

Surprisingly, this was not Faralda, but someone who frightened him much, much more. It was the one who wore the Imperial robes, Ancano.

He'd first noticed it once during a class, as the elf circled the group of assembled students. Arik had thought he was simply observing, but the Altmer's eyes had been burning into him the entire time.

Then, he had overheard Ancano asking Mirabelle about him one day in the hall.

"You say he arrived here late?" Ancano drawled, long, thin fingers tapping at his chin as he looked down at her from slanted green eyes.

"Yes, although I don't know what interest that could be of yours." Mirabelle replied impatiently.

"And he paid you in gemstones, not gold?"

She shrugged. "I hardly remember, he could have. Is there anything else, I have to check the Wards."

"No, thank you. That is all." The elf stepped carefully out of her way, and she hurried past.

Later that day, as he was working with Enthir in the Hall of Attainment, he asked about him.

"Who is Ancano, anyway?"

Enthir shrugged. "Some Imperial grunt making sure we keep in line."

"He was asking Mirabelle about me."

"Was he?" Enthir had been trying to get Arik to focus on his Flames, but gave up and slumped back onto a bench with a sigh. "I didn't think you were his type." He examined his nails. "Too much hair, not enough...height."

Arik reached up to scratch at his scar and shook his head, far too tired for Enthir's humour. "I mean, he was asking strange questions, like how I came to be here...and how I paid to be here."

"He's with the Empire, Arik. It's not impossible he's gotten wind of who you're tied to." The Bosmer replied, and by the tone of his voice it was clear he was just as tired as Arik was.

He sunk down onto the bench beside him, and, holding his hands out before him, he summoned Healing in his palms and watched the silver light flicker in his grasp. It's warmth spread up his arms, pleasant and comforting. As well as working with Enthir, he'd also been spending a lot of time working on his Restoration with Colette and he'd been improving in leaps and bounds. She'd even told him that next week he could go to the local temple with her and start doing some practical healing on the people of Winterhold.

"Stop wasting your magicka." Enthir barked, slapping his arm.

Arik closed his hands, chastised, and crossed his arms. "Can you get me more information on him?"

"Ancano?" Enthir reached up to scratch his chin, thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging. "Sure, why not. It'll cost you, though." He grinned.

Arik reached into his pocket, digging for the gold coins he knew would be there. "It always does, with you."

**F I N A**

* * *

Quim had come back from Solitude with no information on Elenwen, and very little information on caves. The map Cathin found was the most information they had. The silver lining, of course, was that the Stormcloaks had taken Whiterun and were advancing on the Imperials with few losses, though those in the Capital were slow to admit it.

What followed, were two weeks of complete and utter disappointment. Cave after cave had been searched and marked off of the map. Bandits, necromancers, bears, trolls, Imperial supplies, abandoned wrecks with sunken in roofs, giant spiders...everything but what they were looking for.

With every failure, Fina became more and more hopeless. She'd tried three more times to call Odahviing, and received absolutely nothing back. Nothing at all. By the third time, she was convinced he was dead.

She'd been a ways away from the camp when she tried, just inside the doorway of a cave that's roof had fallen in. They'd tried to clear some rubble, but to no avail. There was no getting through. Not that it mattered - there were no signs around that showed any recent human movement anyway.

After his name had been called and the silence hit her like a punch in the gut, she hugged herself, leaning back against the cold stone and missing Arik desperately.

As she fully expected, Ralof had followed her, eager for an update.

"Nothing." She told him, once he was standing before her. He sighed and crossed his arms, shaking his head.

"Do you have any idea why you can't reach him?"

Fina opened her mouth to lie, as she had been for the last few days to try and keep everyone positive. Now it seemed so pointless that she couldn't keep up the charade. "I…" She swallowed, finding the words were stuck somewhere in her throat.

"What is it?" Ralof, seeming to sense her upset, stepped closer and rested his hand on her arm.

"I'm worried the reason I can't reach him, is that he's dead."

" _What?_ "

"One of our first days of travel, do you remember when Talenok called you to stop because I wasn't feeling well?"

He nodded slowly.

"I had a sort of flashback to the vision Odahviing showed me, only it was different. There were Altmer there, torturing him with Dwemer rods. I thought I'd imagined it, because Nettle had only just been talking about them…"

" _Fina!_  You should have bloody - "

Fina raised a hand to cut him off. "I know, but listen. When we were in the first Imperial cave we found, I saw one of those Dwemer rods there. That was when I knew it wasn't just my imagination. So why haven't I been able to reach him again? I can't think of any other reason other than that there isn't anything…" She felt tears rise behind her ears, spilling down her cheeks hot and unwanted. "There isn't anything to reach."

"Oh, Fina." Ralof watched her with sad eyes, his hand running up and down her arm.

Fina wiped angrily at her face. "I can't bear it if all of this was for nothing." She whispered, body breaking into a fresh tremor of sobs.

He sighed, drawing her into his arms and tucking her head under his chin. Ralof stroked her hair and back. "We'll keep looking, Fina. We're not going to give up."

"I'm a blubbering idiot." She huffed, trying to gain control of herself, but finding that if anything, it was only making it worse.

Ralof pulled back a bit, so he could look at her face. He chuckled, brushing tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "Yes." He paused. "But a beautiful one."

Before Fina knew what was happening, he had lowered his head and was pressing his lips to hers in a slow kiss. She didn't react.  _Couldn't_  react.

Taking that as encouragement, rather than the opposite, Ralof's arms tightened and he pushed her back until she was stuck between him and the rock. His palms pressed flat against her stomach and suddenly she was brought back to reality.

Fina broke away from him and pushed her hands against his chest, holding him at an arms length.

"Ralof,  _no_." She hissed, shaking her head.

"The others can't see us from here." He smirked, misunderstanding. He leaned back in to whisper beside her ear, his breath hot and smelling of Dragon's Milk. "And I don't care if they hear."

"No, I mean...No!" She pushed him off again, this time more forcefully, and then slipped out from between him and the rock. "I am sorry if I gave the wrong impression, but I am spoken for, Ralof. You knew that before we even left."

"Has nothing we shared meant anything?" His voice was dangerously quiet, and Fina took another step backwards.

"Of course it does, Ralof. But those days are behind us now."

"Further for you than for me."

Fina swallowed and looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"This...Arik...that you have bound yourself to." His voice was like poison. "Do you love him? Do you intend to marry?"

She nodded. "Yes."

A sudden anger flared in Ralof and his voice roared angrily, fists shaking. "That tiny fool who is off studying magic? You are a warrior! You will die a warrior, and as the heir of Eastmarch, you should take a husband who can stand proudly by your side, sword in hand!" His voice echoed off of the rock and trees, bouncing back and hitting her like a slap.

Fina blinked at him, shocked at the outburst. Then came her own anger. "And that warrior is you, is it?"

"Well, yes!"

"I would sooner go to my grave a childless old maid!" She shouted back. "I could never love a man like you, Ralof. Never. Get out of my sight!"

Now it was his turn to look stricken. He opened his mouth to reply, but Fina wasn't about to give him the chance.

"Go!" She shouted, pointing wildly back towards the camp.

Ralof clenched his jaw and turned sharply on his heel, marching back in the direction of their camp.

Emotionally spent, Fina threw herself down on the ground and curled into a ball.

All she wanted was for this to be over and to be with Arik again, tucked away quietly somewhere, making love all night and sleeping until obnoxiously late hours of the day. It was strange to think it, as she'd never before considered that to be her future. But now it was truly all she wanted.

Someone cleared their throat nearby, and then she heard the heavy movement and creaking of leather armour as someone shifted and settled beside her.

The noise, the creaking...reminded her of something. Of chains. Of heaving, clinking chains. Grinding together.

Suddenly she was there again. She was in the cave. This time it was simply her and Odahviing. The dragon wasn't moving, and for a moment she was worried all she was seeing was his death confirmed. But, this time she found she was able to move about the vision, and as she got closer to him, she could detect the faint rising and falling of his belly and quivering of his poor, bruised wings.

"Odahviing." She said softly, reaching out to him. She was so close, if she could just get a little closer, she could almost -

"When will the new shipment from Dawnstar be in?"

 _That voice._  Fina turned to look towards the voice.  _Elenwen._  The Altmer walked into the cave through an entryway near the back, followed by two more Altmer in similar dress. Deep blue robes, gold trim, Imperial dragon symbol.

"Any day now." One of them replied anxiously, checking a scroll they held in their hands.

"And is it being sent directly here?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"It is, or you  _believe_  it is?" She snapped, turning on him sharply.

The elf jumped a little and fumbled with the scroll. "It says, right here…Ah!" He pointed to the paper. "Batswing Cave, Haafingar. Yes, it's coming directly here."

"Excellent." Elenwen replied, turning back. "Now, let's wake the dragon, shall we?"

"Dragonborn?"

"Don't hurt him!" Fina shouted at Elenwen, trying to run at her. Suddenly, she found herself immobilised in the vision, unable to move.

"Dragonborn!"

She was ripped from the vision and was back in the forest, on the ground, in the mouth of the cave. Talenok crouched beside her, and when she looked at him, he withdrew his tentative hand from her shoulder.

"Talenok." Fina breathed, pressing a hand to her chest as if that could do anything to still her pounding heart.

"I heard shouting." He explained, putting a little more distance between them.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that." Fina stood up, wiping the last remnants of tears from her face. "Batswing Cave, Talenok. He's alive!"

"Huh?"

Suddenly, she found herself grinning. She got to her feet, and he stood straight in the same instant, startled by her sudden change of mood. She took him by the shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I know where to find our dragon, Talenok!" She chimed happily, darting past him and back towards the camp.

The others looked up curiously as she came back, and from their exchanged glances it was obvious that they'd heard shouting, too.

"Good news." She told them, still beaming. "I know where to find our dragon."

Ralof, who had turned his back when she returned, spun around now, eyes wide.

"What? Really?" Quim asked, his mouth full of half-chewed food. "Where?"

"It's called Batswing Cave. Cathin do you have the map?" Fina came forward and collected the map from Cathin and then looked over it, searching for the one in question.

"We've been over the map a dozen times, Fina. We've never seen one with that name." Cathin put in, watching her with a puzzled expression.

"You're right, of course." Fina felt some of her elation deflate and she sat down, still looking at it.

"What's going on? Did you see something?" Ralof's voice cut in angrily.

"Yes. I saw another vision. I was back in the cave, but this time Elenwen walked in and they were talking about a shipment being delivered to them, directly to that cave. Batswing Cave." She didn't look up as she spoke, still going over the map.

"Is there one  _shaped_  like a bat's wing?" Quim asked hopefully, leaning over to look with her.

Fina leaned back and sighed.

"Did they say what kind of shipment, or where it was coming from?" Cathin inquired.

"Any day, from Dawnstar."

"I could go back to Solitude and find out about incoming shipments from Dawnstar. It would be unusual for them to be going to a cave outside of the city, wouldn't it?" Quim suggested.

"Could you find your way in the dark and be back by morning?" Fina asked him, setting the map down.

"He could if I go with him." Cathin, nudged him with her shoulder. "Come on, kid. Let's go. We've got a dragon to find. Finally."

**xxxxx**

Cathin and Quim returned by midmorning the next day, with all the information they needed.

"Batswing seems to be some kind of codename." Quim explained, taking the map from Fina and spreading it out on the ground.

"It's this one here," Cathin pointed one out that was just outside of the radius they'd been looking in. "It's actually called Sorrowfall Den. We would have gotten there, but with the way we've been searching, not for another week or so."

"Good work. Get some rest, we will work on a strategy to get in." Ralof told them, and then pulled the others aside to talk.

Once Quim and Cathin had some rest, and they had a rough plan worked out, they packed up their camp and set out.

They reached Sorrowfall Den just after dark and positioned themselves hidden in the trees outside to watch.

"We don't know how many of them there are." Ralof whispered, peering through the leaves of a bush to try and catch a glimpse. They could make out two Imperials standing guard, but who could say how many were within?

"Do you see any snipers about, Quim?" He asked, turning to him.

Quim shook his head, eyes scanning the surrounding area. "Only if they're stupid. There aren't any good places for them, not here."

"Good. Here's what we do. We will take out those two guards, and Quim will head inside and take a peek while Fina and I cover him. Just far enough to see if there are traps, or any more guards right inside the door. At the first - and I  _mean_  the first, Quim - sign of danger, you get out. If it's clear, Tal, Cath, Nettle, you follow us on my signal. Cath will join us inside, Tal and Nettle will stand guard outside. Understood?"

The others nodded, and so they moved into action. Quim moved to the front, taking his bow off of his back and nocking an arrow into place. It only took him a moment to pick off the two guards outside, dropping them both soundlessly with shots to the head.

They waited a moment, and when there was no movement from the surrounding area, the three of them burst from the trees and started towards the mouth of the cave.

Fina and Ralof kept their weapons at the ready, each standing at one side of the entrance while Quim headed straight inside without them.

A moment passed with utter silence. Two, three. No signal, no all clear. Fina held her breath, scanning the area around them.

Ralof ducked his head inside the cave, looking around.

"I can't see him." He whispered desperately.

As he said it, there came a horrifying scream. Fina knew right away it was Quim.

 _Divines, no!_  Without a second thought she burst around the corner, heading down a curved passage that turned into a rounded chamber. In the centre of the chamber, Quim was held four feet off of the ground, precariously balanced on a spike, body held upright at a terrifying angle.

At first, Fina couldn't understand what she was seeing. Then she realised, that the spike was protruding from his chest.  _Like meat on a skewer._  He was crying, sputtering, arms flailing wildly as he tried to stem the flow of blood that was seeping from the wound and down his body.

" _Quim!_ " She hurried towards him, dropping her sword, current situation forgotten as she looked around for some way to get him off of the spike.

Ralof hurried in behind her, out of the passage and into the circular room. As he did, a set of heavy metal bars slid shut over the entryway, sealing them inside. He spun around to look at them, cursing.

"Ralof, help me!" Fina called, trying desperately to support Quim's body enough to ease him off of the spike.  _If only we could find a way to lower it!_

"It's okay, Quim. You're going to be okay." She told him, squeezing his hand and looking around wildly. "We need to lower this, Ralof. Look!"

Ralof turned to look around the room, and then his eyes found what he was after. He hurried to the wall, flipping a switch. The spike retracted, sinking back into the ground and dropping Quim with a thud.

Fina fell to the ground beside him. The hole in his chest was massive, and absolutely everything around them was covered in a sticky layer of red. His face was so pale, blood covered hands shaking as he reached out to her.

"It - " As he tried to speak, a crimson bubble burst upon his lips, staining his mouth and chin. Blood foamed out, spilling down the side of his face and down his neck. "It hurts, Fina." He cried, eyes wide and horrified as he stared up at her.

"Shh, it's okay." Fina couldn't even try and put pressure on his wound, her palms only sunk further into his chest and he let out an agonising wail. "We're going to get you out of here, don't worry." She told him, taking his hand and pressing it to her lips.

"I don't want...don't want…" He tried to swallow, but seemed to be choking on it and coughed. "Don't want to do this anymore."

"You don't have to." She promised, smoothing his hair back. Ralof was scrambling around, pulling uselessly at the bars over the door, trying to get them open.

Nettle and Cathin hurried down the passage.

"We heard screaming - " Cathin stopped herself short. "How did -"

Ralof looked back at them, tugging furiously at his hair. He lashed out at the bars, making painful contact with the toe of his boot.

"Quim?" Nettle spoke up now, gripping the bars. "Wha's' 'appened? Quim?"

"There was a trap." Ralof moaned.

"Tell him," Quim's voice was nothing more than breath now, and Fina had to lean down to hear him at all. "Tell him I love him."

"Quim, oh, Quim, no. We're going to get you…" She stopped short, realising it was too late. He was gone. Fina felt a rush of tears and she squeezed his hand, bending to press a kiss to his brow.

"Fina?" Ralof asked forlornly.

"Quim!" Nettle shook the bars, throwing his shoulder against them as if that would help. "Don' y' dare!"

Fina shook her head at him. As she did, there came a shout and it only took her a moment to realise it was Talenok with a warning.

"You have to go!" Ralof told them.

"Nettle, now!" Cathin, tugged his arm. "We'll come back for you." She promised.

Nettle had started sobbing, blubbering, wailing, and Fina couldn't do anything but watch as Cathin dragged him off.

"Fina, weapon. Come on." Ralof came over to her and pulled her up by the arm and away from Quim's body. She shook herself and took her sword, knowing she needed to snap out of this.

Suddenly, the bars opened at the passage, and behind them another, unnoticed, door opened in the stone wall of the room. Imperial after Imperial poured in, armed and ready. In front of them, and wearing the brightest smile Fina had ever seen, stood Elenwen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started writing I actually had no idea what 'quim' was slang for. I don't even know where I got the idea for his nickname to be Quim! So I can assure you that death by impalement was not me preforming a sick pun. :o


	33. Cold Metal

**F I N A**

"I have to admit, my dear. I was not expecting to be seeing you again so soon." Elenwen purred, clasping her hands before her.

Fina opened her mouth, the beginnings of the Slow Time Shout already on her lips. Before it could be born, Elenwen waved and it felt as if something had wrapped around her throat, constricting the words and stopping them short. She clasped at her neck, clawing at the skin and trying in vain to Shout. She tried again and again, but no noise would come out.

The Altmer's brows arched in a delicate smile, and soldiers came up on either side of her, grabbing her arms and wrenching her into submission. Her sword clattered to the ground, followed by Ralof's axe as he, too, was seized. There were too many of them, there was no sense fighting.

"Not that I'm displeased to see you, of course." The Altmer continued, closing the distance between them and reaching her fingers out to touch Fina's face. A few inches short, she stopped. "Oh my, you're covered in blood." She cast her eyes to Quim's motionless body, the smallest of smiles on her lips.

Ralof struggled against his captors, a snarl on his lips.

"Don't you touch him!" He spat at her, as Elenwen circled the body.

Fina knew better. She knew what Elenwen was capable of. She knew what was going to come next.

"I wouldn't want to get dirty." Elenwen replied, turning back to them. "Not yet, anyway."

Fina looked away from the snide grin on her face and back stepped into the Altmer woman holding her.

"We're going to get to know each other much, much better, Fina." She said, voice deadly quiet and smelling of violets. "If you're anything like your Uncle, it'll be such fun."

At that comment, Fina spat in her face. The elf recoiled from her, raising a sleeve to wipe the glob from her cheek.

"Take them inside the big room. Chain them up." Elenwen dismissed them with a wave.

"What of the body, my lady?"

"Oh, string it up out front. Send a message."

Ralof shouted in protest, but Fina gave him a pleading look to be silent and he closed his mouth.

They were lead through the hidden door and through a series of chambers, some containing offices, supply rooms, and even a few jail cells. Much to her unsurprised dismay, there were also what seemed to be interrogation chambers - complete with pleading screams.

Finally, they arrived in a massive round chamber that Fina immediately recognised. There was a giant grate in the ceiling, which let in a few pale rays of moonlight.

The room itself wreaked of blood and waste, so thick it burned her nostrils and made her gag.

The most obvious, and most recognisable feature of them all, of course, was Odahviing. He was hunched in the corner, chains and restraints just as she remembered, wings pinned to the ground by massive irons spikes.

At the noise, one of his eyes sleepily opened. She stared at him, shaking her head, horrified, still unable to speak, despite her strangled attempts.

Odahviing! Her mind cried to him.

Dovahkiin? The sorrow in his returned thought was so thick that it set off her own tears again.

The soldiers threw her and Ralof to the ground, chaining their wrists together and their ankles to individual spikes in the ground. When they finished, they cast some sort of binding spell on the iron.

I am so sorry, Odahviing.

You have found me. That is cause for hope.

I thought you dead.

Death is a luxury they will not allow.

The guards left them, and Fina crawled as far to the dragon as she could, but was still at least ten metres shy. From here, she could see the welts, cuts, and bruises in graphic clarity.

It looks worse than it is, maldovah.

"Fina?" Ralof asked uncertainly.

She looked back to him, tapping her head, lips, then back to Odahviing.

"I don't understand."

 _Joor_  understand little. The dragon huffed.

Especially this one. Fina looked at Ralof helplessly, wiping tears from her cheeks. How is it we can communicate this way?

I know not. Perhaps some bond has been forged in our time of need. Akatosh and Kyne work in mysterious ways.

Fina sank back against the rock wall, looking at her hands and finding them covered in quickly drying blood. Quim's blood. She shivered, shaking her head. Of all the things that could have happened tonight, she could not have imagined it being much worse.

Ralof leaned back beside her.

"The others will find a way to get us out."

Fina wanted to believe him, but was finding it hard. There had been so many guards…

How often does Elenwen come?

She is always here.

She remembered Nettle's face when he realised what was happening to Quim. 'Tell him I love him.' Quim had said.

Ralof was up and moving, tugging at the iron spike where it met the ground.

If it holds one of the  _dov_ , it will not move for him.

He would not listen, even if I could speak.

You cannot?

She has worked magic on my throat.

Odahviing's chest rumbled with a noise of anger and Ralof looked at him suspiciously.

I would rip the head from her shoulders and drain her of blood!

As would I,  _zeymah_.

Eventually, Ralof settled beside her, and they huddled together for warmth. She found some form of sleep, but it was fitful. She was plagued by Quim's face, stained by his own blood, his body dropping to the floor with a sickening thud as the spike retracted back into the ground.

In the morning, they were woken by the light filtering down on them from above, and the sounds of voices echoing off of the bare stone walls.

Two soldiers filed in, dressed in the same dark blue and gold as Elenwen. They came towards them, ripping her and Ralof apart and removing his chains.

 _What are they doing? They should be taking me!_ She tried to scream, but still she could make no sounds. She grabbed for him, but he was already gone.

"Fina!" He cried. "I'll be fine!"

Where are they taking him?

You would not like it if I told you,  _maldovah_.

Tell me anyway.

You perhaps saw interrogation chambers when they brought you here?

I was hoping I was mistaken.

You were not, Elenwen has spoken of them often and fondly.

Fina curled onto her side, drawing her knees into her chest.

Why did they take him and not me?

Elenwen seeks to break you, not your companion. Can you think of a better way to start?

 _This isn't happening._ She closed her eyes, attempting to will herself to wake up. Surely this was all just a horrible dream.

Then came the screams. It started with a single, sharp, cry, like the crack of the whip itself. Soon, though, it was a sobbing rain of them. Over and over, some sounding all too similar to her name.

It was him. Ralof. Unmistakable in the hollow cavern, his voice was ringing out to her. Pleading. How long it went on, she couldn't know.

By the time they brought him back she had her fingers jammed so far into her ears she was sure they were bleeding. They were dragging him by the arms, and threw him at her feet. He was naked, and his back had been lashed so many times that the flesh was nothing more than a tatter of pink ribbons oozing, deep, crimson blood.

The Altmer man and woman bent to fasten his chains again and Fina crawled to him, glaring.

"I am Aryah, and this is my brother, Arindor." The female said. "We'll be seeing you again very shortly."

Fina could do nothing but seethe at them until they were gone.

Ralof was moaning, and she lifted his head into her lap, stroking his hair.

"No." He said reflexively, trying to push her hands away, but she hummed softly.

He opened one bruised eyelid to look at her, and some form of recognition flashed there.

"Fina." He sighed, turning his lips to kiss her palm where it rested on his cheek.

She bent over him, kissing his brow and humming softly again.

"She didn't ask anything." He said quietly, voice tired and distant. She could tell his consciousness was slipping. "She didn't want to know anything."

Fina shook her head, willing him to be silent.

_This is my doing. This is my own doing._

How is the  _joor_?

I don't know. She responded honestly, listening to his shallow breathing and knowing the pain had taken him under.

She reached back and removed her tunic, which she pressed against his back in an attempt to stem the free flowing blood from his wounds.

 _So much blood._ Quim's, Ralof's, all of it coated and dried on her hands, like unwanted gloves, all the more evidence that this was her fault. Her doing.

It wasn't until her shirt was thick and dripping with red that she gave up and tossed it aside. She was no healer.

 _Arik._  She thought desperately.  _If only he could see what it is he loves now. What would he think of me?_

**A R I K**

The next day, as he and Enthir were heading into the Hall of Attainment for their lesson, they ran into Ancano. Quite literally - head on.

Enthir's head collided with his audibly and everything each of them had been holding - books, parchment - crashed to the ground.

"Watch where you are going!" The Altmer proclaimed, brushing off his robes.

" _You_  watch where  _you_  are going." Enthir snapped back, bending down to gather his things.

Arik stooped to help, also helping himself to a letter of Ancano's he'd noticed had dropped from a fold in his cloak. He tucked it into his pocket.

"Really." Ancano huffed, storming off.

Inside, Enthir turned on him. "What was that?"

Arik shrugged, pulling the letter out. "Let's see…"

_Ancano,_

_I was most intrigued to receive your letter. That does indeed match the description of the Nord companion the Dragonborn brought with her to High Hrothgar - down to the name._

_Keep close watch on him - for now that is the only use we have of him._

_\- Elenwen_

He closed it and then turned to the safety of his room, where he sunk to the edge of the bed.

Enthir followed him and took the letter from his shaking hands. When he'd finished reading it, he tossed it onto the bed beside Arik and swept a hand through his hair.

"Now I have more information to go on." He shrugged.

But Arik could see the flashing concern in his expression.

**F I N A**

A day and a half passed in silence. Ralof came in and out of consciousness, begging her for food, for water, for release from the pain.

His wounds had dried shut but cracked painfully open with every movement he made.

"Why don't they just kill me, Fina?"

She soundlessly opened her mouth, unable to answer his desperate pleas.

"I've loved you since I saw you." He told her. "What was it that made me so unloveable?"

She shook her head fiercely.

 _Talos help me, I'd take those words back if I could._  She kissed his forehead, eyes pleading with him to understand. The words had only been in anger. But he turned his head away from her.

Fina was starving. Her stomach felt as though it was trying to eat itself, and her throat and lips were so dry all she could do was keep trying to swallow. She was struggling to stay conscious just as often as Ralof was.

And that was when Elenwen came for her.

She came personally, alone, the key to the chain balancing in her palm.

"If you come nicely, Fina, we'll bring him food. Maybe do something about his wounds."

Fina looked up at her, seeing the world in threes, wondering how it was she looked so clean, so  _beautiful_ , when she had brought about such cruelty and destruction.

_What is left to care about?_

_Maldovah_? Odahviing warned her. She could barely hear his voice hum in her mind.

Hesitantly, she nodded.

"Excellent." Elenwen clapped her hands once, pleased, and bent to unlock the chains. "If you give me any trouble, we will kill them both."

Not doubting it, Fina stumbled to her feet. Her body was so weak that she had to lean against the wall for support.

"Come along."

**xxxxx**

As she expected, it was an interrogation room that Elenwen took her to. It was a small cell, sealed with a thick wooden door and the stone walls within had been smoothed and polished until they shone in the candle light.

There were two wooden chairs in the centre, and between them a drain in the floor. At the back, against the far wall, was a table laden with a whole manner of metal instruments.

"Take a seat." Elenwen gestured to a chair, a deceptively gentle smile on her face.

Fina could feel herself begin to tremble. She told herself she was doing it to keep Ralof safe, and so she sank into the chair.

Elenwen walked around behind her, gathering her hands behind her back and clamping them there between metal pincers.

The cold metal against her skin seemed to wake her and Fina started, whipping her head around to look at the elf.

Suddenly, she was ashamed she had been so quick to follow and obey. She fought a little, and Elenwen's laugh chimed close to her ear.

Next, leather straps closed around her ankles.

"You're such a lovely little thing." Elenwen told her, coming around and walking back towards the table. "Whatever happened to your tunic?"

Fina, of course, who was only left in her breast cloth, could not answer.

"Oh, of course. My apologies." Elenwen gestured to her throat and then returned to examining the instruments on the table.

Fina watched with more fear than she wanted, as Elenwen's elegant fingers slid around a long, parchment-thin steel blade. The mer raised the strange knife slowly, examining it in the candlelight with a look of pure elation.

"Yes," She purred, "This will do nicely."

She returned to Fina's side, bright eyes lighting on her as she reached out to grasp at Fina's chin, tilting it up so she was forced to look at her.

"Such pretty skin." Fina barely felt the blade as it drew a trail of bright crimson down the side of her thigh. But the third cut, fourth cut, tenth cut...Each slice of the knife doubled the pain until her left thigh was a neat pattern of weeping red lines. It had been the fifth cut when she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, and by the tenth she could no longer stop from crying out.

"Strong, too." Elenwen was commenting, pausing to carefully wipe the blade clean. Fina didn't even see as the Altmer dipped it into a bottle of fear poison and then continued to make the cuts on her thigh.

After that, Fina's awareness was swallowed by screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is as much as I've written. I sometimes will scrawl out random scenes/ideas from this story but I haven't been able to write a full chapter in a year of trying. This story kind of died on me, unfortunately :( As I said on an earlier chapter, if you have any questions regarding the ending/future events you can always ask! I do have it mapped out roughly, I just haven't been able to flesh it out enough to publish. I'm so sorry! Thank you for reading :) ♥


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